The Hunger Games Premiere
by laxgoal31
Summary: The very first Hunger Games. Follows the story of a boy named Corran Skirata, who is originally from District 13, now living in District 12. Also includes ancestors of characters in the actual book, as well as background on the major rebellion of Panem.
1. Introduction

**All rights reserved to Suzanne Collins; I do not own the Hunger Games. Unfortunately. So the idea just came to me, and I really hope that the story doesn't turn out too bad. Please review and let me know what you think!**

_I sat there, in my rough wooden chair, watching my favorite show on the battered, old television in our sitting room. I was finally starting to relax in my new life in District 12, finally starting to forget the painful trials I had undergone in order to get up to this point. Then it happened. My show was interrupted by a shot of a clean, spotless, white wall background. A man, a news reporter from the Capitol, said, "We interrupt this broadcast to bring you live footage from District 13, shot from aerial news planes. Let this footage serve as a warning to the remaining 12 Districts…"_

_The screen moved to a shot of District 13. The camera shifted around, taking in the panic on people's faces, the ransacked buildings that were being demolished, and the overall chaos that was occurring. The nuclear bombs started falling from the overhead warplanes. I began saying to myself, "No, no, no, no…"_

_I couldn't tear my eyes away from the screen as innocent people were vaporized right in front of my eyes. Because I just knew, one of those people was my mother…_

I wake up and sit up, gasping. I notice I'm sweating. So, it was just a dream_. _A nightmare, really. A nightmare that has been occurring a little too often for my liking as of late. A figure appears in the doorway to my small bedroom.

"Everything alright, Corr, buddy? I heard you talking in here," says my uncle, Dane. He looks at me with those big, worried eyes of his. He knows the general idea of what's been keeping me awake at nights.

"I'm fine," I reply. "You don't have to worry about me. Go back to sleep."

He laughs. "Well actually, it's morning. Time to get up and go to school."

I groan. "Ok, I'm coming. What's for breakfast?"

"Grits," he says. "Hurry before it gets cold."

I get up and dress quickly. I go to the kitchen, where I grab some breakfast and scarf it down quickly. I guess I'm pretty hungry. As I sit at the table that is missing a base of one leg and eat, my thoughts dwell on the nightmare that I experienced. No matter what I do, it always seems to come back to haunt me…

My reflective thoughts are interrupted by my younger cousin of ten years entering the kitchen. I playfully grab him in a headlock, ruffle his wild, unruly hair, and say, "Well, Aden, looks like you finally decided to get up!"

He struggles against me (to no avail) and goes, "Ow! Quit it, Corran! I'm hungry! I want some food!"

Just then, I hear my uncle's voice from the sitting room, "Corran. Come in here. I want you to see this; it concerns you." He sounds serious. Something about the terse tone in his voice makes me instantly release Aden and go into where he is.

He points at the old television. "Look at the news."

The TV is showing the national news. The Capitol reporter, a thoroughly pierced man with blue hair is saying "…as a result of the uprising against the Capitol by the thirteen Districts of Panem, the Capitol has instituted the Hunger Games. The Hunger Games will be a mandatory contest between twenty-four tributes, two from each remaining District, one boy and one girl each. The ages of the competitors will range from twelve to eighteen. The twenty four will compete to kill each other in a vast outdoor arena, with only one remaining victorious. More details to follow."

Uncle Dane shuts off the TV. His face looks haggard and worn as he says to me, "Well, what do think of that?"

"It's awful," I say. "Taking kids from each District and forcing them to kill each other in a bloody fight to the death? Only the Capitol would think of something that cruel."

Uncle Dane muses, "It certainly does send a message: We won't kill you; we'll kill your children. And it's all because of the rebellion. You know, the memories of your parents deserve better than this."

I do know. My father was a decorated general who fought for the rebels during the war. He was presumably killed when the Capitol bombed the camp he was commanding, which was situated at the base of the Capitol's mountains. As for my mother…

_A hovercraft landed in the middle of the town square. A crowd of people surrounded it, all with the same look of desperation and determination. The hovercraft pilot shouted out, "I've got room for twenty!"_

_My mother and I fought to make our way to the front of the crowd. Or more accurately, mob. People recognized us as the family of one of their most commended generals, and let us through. But by the time we reached the craft, there was only room for one more. My mother pushed me onto the cramped craft and said to me, "Go."_

"_Not without you, mom! Not without you!" I screamed._

_She looked at me with sadness written in every feature of her body and said, "I'll take the next one, sweetheart. I promise. I love you." _

_Little did I know that there was not going to be another one. This was to be the last hovercraft in the mass exodus of District 13 before it was reduced to rubble. So I agreed to my mother's request. And I watched helplessly as the craft lifted off and flew away, watched as her face changed of one full of hope for me, to one utterly devoid of hope for herself…_

I'm shaken out of my painful reverie by Aden saying, "Come on, big cuz. Time to go to school!"

I swallow the lump in my throat. "Yeah, let's go."

~/~/~/~/~/

In the schoolyard, before classes were scheduled to start, I meet up with my group of friends. "Did you hear the news about the Hunger Games?" I ask them.

My friend Mereel goes, "Yeah. Sounds horrible."

His twin sister, Etain, says, "Totally! How awful! I also heard that they will be selecting these tributes at gatherings called Lotteries. How it will work is, twelve-year olds will have one entry, thirteen-year olds will have two, and so on. They put your names on paper slips into these giant glass balls, one for the boys, and one for the girls. If your paper slip is chosen…well…that's it."

Just then, the school bell rings out. We all give each other a final, meaningful look, and head inside.

The day passes quickly for me. I'm pretty much in a daze, thinking about the morning's news and what it could mean. At the end of the day, I meet up with my closest friend Milla in the schoolyard. She's like a sister to me, I know her so well. She made the journey with me from District 13 to District 12 on that same hovercraft that took me away from my mother. The one that changed my life forever…

Anyway, she says to me, "Hey, you."

"Hey," I say. Then I see that it looks like she's been crying. The telltale signs being puffy red eyes. "What's the matter?"

She looks so forlorn. "Nothing," she says. "It's just…it's just that the whole thing about these Hunger Games and the Capitol and whatnot has reminded me about that day we came here. You remember that day?"

Man, do I. Nothing could ever make me forget it…

_We were riding on the hovercraft, all twenty of us and the pilot, just cruising along. We were above the woods, actually near District 12. We were heading for District 4, one of the wealthier Districts. We would be well off there. However, that plan abruptly changed._

_Appearing out of the sky suddenly were four fighter jets from the Capitol. With a couple of quick bursts of energy from their lasers, our hovercraft was spiraling down to the ground, on fire. Just before we hit the surface, I took a deep breath, and jumped clear. When I hit the ground, I blacked out for an instant._

_When I woke up, I saw the burning hovercraft in front of me, all of the other refugees around me, panicking. Parachuting down around me also were troops from the Capitol, machine guns in their hands. They began to mow down the refugees in cold blood. Blood was flying everywhere, bodies were dropping, it was simply awful. I screamed in horror, but I kept my head and started to run away. I didn't care where; I just had to escape certain death._

_After a minute of running away, I heard footsteps behind me. I prayed it wasn't one of the Capitol's troops, but no, it was a girl with ice-blond hair and violet eyes. She looked to be about my age, and was about medium height. She stopped when she saw me, and called to me, "You're one of those from District 13, right?"_

"_Yes," I said. "Care to join me?"_

"_Do you know where you're going?" she asked._

"_Not a clue in the world," I said. _

"_Well then, follow me. I know exactly where to go," she said. And then she began to jog along the forest path that I was following. And I followed her._

_Before long, we came to a fence. She said, "Beyond that, is District Twelve. We'll be safe there."_

_Well, now I could contribute something to this partnership. I pulled my father's sword that he had given me just before he left to go off and fight, and say, "This is how we get in." I moved to cut the metal fence._

"_Wait!" she cried, catching my arm. "It might be electrified!" She moved closer and leaned in to the fence with one ear. "No, there's no hum. Cut away."_

_So I did. And it took awhile, all the time she was glancing nervously around, to see if we were not alone here. But it seems we were. I guess the troops had enough on their hands back at the hovercraft wreckage. When I had cut a good-sized hole, we both squeezed through. I said to her, "Where will you go?"_

_She replied, "I have a relative here, my grandmother. What about you?"_

_I said, "An uncle on my father's side, and his son live here. I've never met them, but I'm sure they will take me in." I know that I have to ask her something. "Will I see you again?"_

_She regarded me with a twinkle in her eyes and said to me, "Oh, I'm sure our paths will cross…"_

"_Wait!" I cried. "What's your name?"_

"_Milla," she said. "And you?"_

"_Corran," I answered. And we both went our separate ways for the moment._

So when Milla looks so depressed before me, I can't help but put my arm around her. "Hey, cheer up. What are the odds of one of us being chosen?"

She just says, "You never know, Corran. You just never know."

So after I walk her to her house and return to my own sorry excuse for a place to live, which is located in the area we call the Seam, I have just barely got in the door when my uncle says to me brusquely, "Corran. More news on the Hunger Games."

I have just burst into the sitting room when the TV is saying "…and the first Panem-wide Lotteries will occur in exactly one week. Yep, one week. Good luck to all you out there ages twelve through eighteen, and may the odds be ever in your favor."

So that's it. I have one week. One week before my life will maybe be on the line for all of Panem to see. My uncle says to me, "Well, Corr, even if you are picked, you won't be so bad off, right? I mean, your mother taught you all about poisonous and edible plants, and your dad…well your dad gave you all those lessons on sparring and fighting with a sword and knife, right?"

That's true. See, I didn't have a bad life back in District 13. My mother was a herbalist and my father was a trained fighter and military advisor to the Capitol. We used to go on these picnics in the forest around the District. My mom would show me all of the different plants and their uses, and my dad would give me sparring lessons for fun as my mom rooted us both on. I was even happy at times. But as the Dark Days grew closer, and as my father defected to the rebel's side in the war against the Capitol, the days were few and far between when I knew happiness.

_The last thing my father ever gave me was his own personal sword. He said to me, "Corran, you're the man of the house, now, you hear? Protect your mother, and take care of her. Protect her with this." He handed the sword to me._

_I said to him in disbelief, "Dad…you're sure?" I mean, he loved this sword. He had used it in almost all of his battles as a soldier._

"_Yes, son. How are you going to defend yourself and your mother without a weapon? Remember what I have taught you, and use it well. I love you, son." And he walked out the door of our home. I would never see him again…_

I reply to my uncle, "Maybe I have those skills, but no matter what, I'm still going to die. Out of twenty three others, what are the odds that I will be the one to live?"

He says, "You've got to stay positive. And by the way, the news is also talking about this system called tessarae. One can apply for extra grain and oil for one person for one year. The thing is, for how many times you apply for this tessarae, that's how many extra entries in the Reaping that you will gain."

Uh oh, I think. "I don't need to do that, right?"

"No, I don't think so. We're getting by with my job income and with what you forage in the woods, and with what your friend Milla sews for us. That's very handy, not having to spend money buying new clothes or repairing old ones," he says.

"Yes it is," I reply. I don't know where I'd be without Milla, physically or emotionally. She's the one who will always listen to me, and I'm the same for her. Like I said, she's practically my sister.

Could it ever become anything more than just best friends?

I push that thought away. I'll think about that if I make it through the upcoming Lottery...

The allotted week flies by. I want it to last longer, to cherish what might be my last moments in District 12, but that's not meant to be. I forage in the woods for food during the week, using the knowledge my mother taught me. I forage as much as I can, to try and get what I can in case I am picked, and my uncle and cousin have to live without me. The woods is certainly a dangerous place, with wild dogs and remnants of the rebellion ever present, such as tracker jacker nests. Good thing I have my sword to protect me…

~/~/~/~/~/

So one week later, on the day of the Reaping, I dress in my finest clothes. I do want to look nice if I'm to head off to the Capitol. But when I look in the cracked mirror that I have in my bedroom, past the veneer of finely tailored garments, I simply see a boy. A tall, lanky, light-skinned boy with fair brown hair, and green eyes. But actually, the eyes are not the eyes of a boy. They've seen too much carnage and destruction for that…

So when I'm standing in the main town square that afternoon with the other sixteen-year-olds, I try to pay attention to mayor Mellark. But it's really not happening. He's way too boring for that. I tune in somewhere around "…and because this is the first ever Hunger Games, we will have a representative from the Capitol to train our District's tributes. A representative will train our tributes until we have a victor, at that time, he or she will take up the mantle of training. May I introduce to you…Jaing Katarn!"

The crowd's reaction is mixed after the mayor says this. There is piecemeal applause form the blind fools, others, the more sensible of the bunch stare them down and the applauders quickly stop, clearly intimidated. The mayor quickly recovers from our unorthodox display and says, "On to our Capitol escort who will now select our tributes, Miss Telleo Nickel!"

A freakish-looking woman with orange hair and pierced eyebrows steps forward on the stage. Man, she's ghastly. "Ladies first!" she cries.

I'm praying, "Not Milla, not Milla, not Milla…" I do this until the name rings out.

"Selena Mellark!" shrieks Telleo.

The mayor's own daughter! Selena makes her way onstage, looking utterly terrified. I look over at her family. Onstage, the mayor's face is frozen in shock and disbelief. Selena's younger brother and mother look even more frightened than she does. I can't help but feel bad for Selena, who is in my year at school, but at least it wasn't Milla. I catch her eye through the crowd and give her a reassuring smile.

That smile is immediately wiped off my face as I hear the name, "Corran Skirata!"

**Is this story a lost cause? I won't continue if it totally stinks. ****I'm sorry if this chapter was too long; I'm going to try and make this story somewhat like the length of an actual novel, so please bear with me. And again, reviews make my day, so do review! Please!**


	2. Revelation

**Thanks to hungergamesfan51, AJLL, Jane, the veggo, VCullen12, and Santastic for reviewing the last chapter. Here's chapter two! Reviews make my day, so please leave a comment!**

Still looking at Milla, I see her mouth form an 'O' in shock and horror. What has just been said doesn't really hit me until I see that happen.

With two simple words, I have been condemned to die. All of my life, the family picnics, school, my friends, escaping from District 13, all of it. It's going to end. My time is up.

I can't refuse. Who knows what sort of terrible punishment the Capitol would devise for the District if I did? And while I'm not even from this District, I still can't let innocent people suffer.

So slowly, almost as if I was five years old, I totter up onstage and take my place next to Selena. Her father the mayor begins to read the Treaty of Treason, the agreement (well not really an agreement, more like a forced surrender) that ended the uprising against the Capitol. The uprising that claimed both of my parent's lives in two different ways. The mayor's voice wavers throughout his speech; he obviously cannot believe that his own daughter would be picked. And who can blame him?

So when he finishes the speech, with tears brimming in his eyes, he motions for us to shake hands. When I look into the eyes of Selena, I only see fear and apprehension. No will to survive. Maybe she's already accepted her own inevitable death.

Have I?

After the anthem is played, Selena and I are taken to the Justice Building. I am directed into the most luxurious room I've ever seen, and left alone. The Peacekeeper who leaves me here explains that this is the allotted time given to family and friends to see me off and to wish me luck. I have to fight to keep it together for them; I just can't afford to let anybody see me break down. I'm going to be strong.

The first to enter are my uncle and Aden. We all sit down together on a giant, plush couch with elaborate decorations and just think privately for a while. Then I begin to speak, "Listen. You hopefully will be able to get by on the income from the job. Aden…perhaps you should take tessarae when you are eligible at your own risk. I'm sure Milla will come by and help you guys out with money from her sewing and such; try to give her something in return. Just…just continue on. No matter what you see happen to me." I wouldn't be able to bear it if they both just gave up. But then again, I won't be around to see that happen...

My uncle says to me, "Corr, you have to keep up hope. Like I said, you're not that bad off. You're athletic, smart, and with all of your talents, knowledge, and skills, why count yourself out?"

Is he kidding? "Haven't you heard of the Elites?" I ask him.

My uncle has, but Aden hasn't. "What are the Elites?" he asks.

My uncle tells his son, "The Elites are former soldiers from the Districts that were specifically requested by the Capitol to come and fight for them. The Capitol had defectors to the cause of the rebels…and these Elites were the defectors to the Capitol's cause. Their ages range from sixteen to eighteen. These Elites, true to their name, are exceptional warriors. They consisted mostly from Districts 1, 2, and 4, and rumor has it that the tributes to come out of those Districts will all be volunteers. And-"

"Stop it!" I cry. I can see Aden's normally cherubic face is growing more horrified by the second. "He doesn't need to hear this, Uncle."

With a look of concern for his son, my uncle says, "You're right, Corr. I'm sorry. My advice to you is, just stay positive. You can do it."

Aden next says to me, "Corr? Come back. I know you can." My heart breaks when I look at him. He's trying so hard to be strong for me. Fighting so hard to keep a steady voice.

"I'll do my best," I say, trying my best to match Aden's false bravado.

Then the door bursts open and Peacekeepers usher them out. They're gone before I can even process what is happening. Not exactly the best way to part. Especially when this is the last that I will ever see them. But I am slightly cheered, as the next to enter is Milla.

I open my arms to her, and she rushes into them, crying. It's as if she was the one to be entered in the Games, not me. I try and reassure her, saying, "Hey. Shhh. It'll be ok."

She looks up at me and says tearfully, "What are you talking about? How is it possibly going to be ok?"

"Because I'm going to do my best to win," I reply. I've made up my mind now. I owe it to her, to Uncle Dane, to Aden, and to the District to try and return. I'm not going down without a fight.

She whimpers, "You promise?"

"I promise," I say. She is the person that I most want to come back to, even more than Aden and Uncle Dane. Ever since that day, when we were the only two on that hovercraft to survive the massacre, we've just grown closer and closer. Going on walks in the forest, and sharing stories about life back in District 13 were what we did most. Even the fact that we both lost our parents during the rebellion only serves to cement our bond. I begin to think again; could there be something more with her? Something romantic? Of course, now I think this, when it much too late. When I'm going to die.

We sit there on the couch just holding each other until it is time for her to leave. She says, "Corr-"

I'm thinking, it's now or never. I stop her words with a kiss, which she returns until the Peacekeepers roughly pull her away. The door bangs shut. I touch my lips, just reflecting.

After about another half hour of waiting around in that luxurious room, I am escorted to a waiting car to be taken to the train station. So, I only received two visits. No matter. Being a newcomer to District 12, I haven't had exactly a life filled with popularity. Of course, that would change if I were to survive and return home. Like that'll ever happen…

After much hoop-la and camera flashing, I am on the train, and we are underway. Throughout the publicity and all, I just gritted my teeth and wore a blank, unfeeling expression. No need to show emotion. Next to me, Selena was openly crying. Was this part of her strategy, to appear as a weak, frightened, girl that no one should bother with? Is she only faking? Or is that the real Selena?

~/~/~/~/~/

So when I am shown to my rooms on the train, (why anyone would need more than one is beyond me, it's the ultimate sign of arrogance) I stop short in surprise. Forget the Justice Building; these chambers are even more luxurious. Perfect, pristine white walls, padded chairs, a bed fit for a king...so this is how my father lived on his excursions to the Capitol back when he worked for them...

A boy enters with a carefully handwritten note; he hands it to me begins to beat a hasty retreat. I say to him, "Hey, what's your name?"

He looks at me like I'm crazy, points to his mouth, and quickly walks out the door. I wonder, what's his deal? Then it hits me. He must be an Avox. The Capitol did a whole big story on Avoxes, on how traitors to the Capitol would have their tongues cut out and forced to live the rest of their lives in servitude and silence. Yet another atrocity that the Capitol has committed. But I still think the Hunger Games is number one on the list of their wrongdoings.

Anyway, this note reads, "Supper is in one hour. Clothes are in drawers in your dressing room. Be prompt. –Telleo."

I walk over to the dressing room, and open up a random drawer. As clothes spill out, I can only admire how fine they are! Milla is a talented sewer, but this…this can't be equaled. These can come only from the best tailors the Capitol has to offer. I select a fancy suit to wear and then go and lay down on the comfortable bed, exhausted and overcome.

When Telleo comes to collect me for the supper, I follow her to the dining room. Selena is already sitting at the table, actually looking quite pretty in a sapphire dress that only enhances her blue eyes and ashy blond hair. Her eyes are puffy and bloodshot. Looks like she's been doing some more crying.

Telleo and I have just sat down when Jaing enters the room. He's a hard-faced man, with cold black eyes and dark short hair. From the looks of it, he was in the military. He probably even fought in the rebellion. He sits down and asks, "So what's to eat?"

His question is answered as food begins to be brought to us by servants. First comes carrot soup, then mashed potatoes, then lamb chops, then…more food. This is the richest food that I have ever eaten in my life. I mean sometimes, my father would bring home tiny morsels from the Capitol for us to snack on. But never anything like this. Before I know it, my stomach is bursting from the food. I look over at Selena and can tell by the greeness of her expression that she's not doing much better.

During dessert, which is chocolate cake, Jaing looks at me and Selena and goes, "So, what were your names again?"

"Selena Mellark," says she.

Jaing laughs. "The mayor's daughter, eh? Looking forward to a life without privileges and prosperity? Or actually, looking forward to no life at all?"

Wow. What a jerk. This is enough to set delicate Selena off again, and she runs from the room, sobbing. Jaing looks at her with disgust and pity, and then turns back to me. "Your name, runt?"

"Corran Skirata," I say coldly. I don't even know the guy, but anyone who treats people like dirt deserves to be treated like dirt in return.

The fork of cake that was on the way to his mouth stops short. It clatters as it falls on his clean plate. "Skirata?" he asks. "That's your surname?"

"Yeah," I say. "What of it?"

He avoids looking at me and says, "Nothing. Nothing at all."

Curious. But I don't have time to question him as we are ushered into another compartment to watch the recap of the Reapings all across Panem. Selena is fetched from her room, and sits next to me, still looking shaken. I can't help but think that she has absolutely no chance at all in the Games...

So one by one, we see the other Reapings; we see the face of the children that will be the competition. Just as I thought, all of the tributes from Districts 1, 2, and 4 are volunteers. All Elites. I don't understand what goes on in their heads. To me, tribute is a synonym to the word 'corpse'. To them, I guess winning would bring them the utmost fame and glory. But at what price?

The Elite that stands out the most in my mind is a lean, tall boy from District 1, who knocks over a dozen other people on his way to volunteer.

In addition, the girl from District 6 is a volunteer, which is curious. She's the only non-Elite volunteer.

The boy from District 5...hauntingly reminds me of Aden. He is only twelve. The sight of him just makes me detest the Capitol even more. It just seems worse to me to see a twelve-year old standing there than an eighteen-year old. He is truly a child, nowhere near an adult yet.

Actually, wait. The Elite that stands out the most in my mind is really the girl tribute from District 1. She…looks familiar. She has the same fair brown hair as me, and the same green eyes. I guess the only difference between us would be the hardness of her face and the coldness of her eyes.

Finally, District 12 is shown. They show Selena being called, the surprised faces of the onlookers at the news about their mayor's daughter. Then my name is called. I see myself, looking lost and shocked, taking slow, stumbling steps onstage. Selena and I shake hands, the anthem plays, and the program ends.

After the show is over, Telleo says, "Time for bed. It's been a long day, and you both have an even bigger one in front of you tomorrow!" Geez, I hate her. She's upbeat and happy when I'm about to die. And that horrid Capitol accent doesn't improve my feelings any. I'd like to see her get in the arena and survive…

Jaing says shortly, "I'll be in the bar." He walks off.

Not like I needed to know that…wait! An idea hits me. I remember his curious reaction about my surname at supper today. If he's going to the bar to get rip-roaring drunk, this is my chance to find out some information. So before I can process whether this is a good idea or a bad idea, I head off to his room, which. Of course, waiting until Selena and Telleo are out of sight.

After much searching, I finally locate Jaing's room. When I enter his room, which is foolishly and perhaps arrogantly unlocked, I take it all in. There is a polished, mahogany desk in the corner. A bed in another corner. Clothes strewn everywhere. Open drawers. A door that presumably connects to the other rooms. So where do I start looking?

I actually don't even know what I'm looking for. Anything, really. Anything to help me get to know more about the man who is to be my mentor for the next week. The man who holds my life in his hands.

I start with the desk. I notice that there is a keyhole in the main drawer of the desk. So now where could the key be…I look under the bed, and eureka, it's there. How stupidly original of him…

So I pop open the drawer and start rifling through the papers inside, (of course taking great care not to disturb any out of order) just to see if there's anything good. Most of it looks like memos and such. Boring. One file catches my eye, though. It reads, "Prisoner-of-war Roster."

Why not, I think to myself. I open it. The first thing I notice is that the names inside are listed alphabetically. There is a status column next to the name, and a section for notes about the prisoner after that. So, these must have been the rebel prisoners from the major uprising.

Could my father have been a prisoner? Is he still alive? I turn to the S section just to see. I want to feed the rising hope inside of me. I want to have a father again.

My eyes scroll down the list, searching slowly, methodically. Then I see it! The name, "Skirata, K." He's alive!

Then the status hits me: "Terminated." I sink to my knees. So, it's over. My last hope has been crushed. Even though I had known this already, it's still a blow to see in front of you, staring you in the face. No question about it. No room for argument.

Even in the midst of my new-found old grief, I turn my attention back to the notes section for my father. This section reads, "Subject was taken prisoner before bombing of rebel base camp at the base of surrounding mountains of the Capitol. Subject refused to respond to any questions about information on rebel movements. Subject died under interrogation. Cause of death: fatal torture."

I'm in a daze. My father wasn't killed in that bombing. My father was killed in a small, anonymous room somewhere in the Capitol. He was mercilessly beaten, abused, and finally killed. My brain has just about shut down at learning of this. I'm just about to leave the room before I'm caught when I see a small footnote in the notes section which reads, "Interrogator: Jaing Katarn."

I throw the file back into the drawer, replace the key, and rush out of there. When I reach my room, I sink down on the bed, and lie there, stilly fully clothed. Only one thought is coursing through my mind right now:

I am in the hands of the man who brutally tortured my father to death. Will he do the same to me?

**Okay so, a question. Is the length of these chapters ok? **

**Like I said, reviews make my day, so please, please, write one and let me know how I'm doing! That's all for now!**


	3. A Warm Welcome

**Thanks to Castaway5, Santastic, AJLL, Wesley, hungergamesfan51, x-FruitySkittles-x, fireonice1292, VCullen12, Shelby Cobra, and Ima Idiot's ex-sister for last reviewing. **

**Just wanted to say, please bear with me. I made a vow not to rush on this story like I normally do with fanfics, so I'm sorry if it's not exciting now. So, chapter three! Read and review!**

Morning brings anguish. After I wake up, I don't move a muscle. I just lie there in bed, staring at the bland white ceiling, thinking. Thinking about the revelation that I discovered last night about how my father met his end. And how he met his end. And who ended him.

As I'm thinking, a knock sounds at the door to my bedroom. I hear Telleo's screechy, whiny voice with the oh-so-annoying Capitol accent say, "Cooooran! Time to wake up! You're arriving at the Capitol today; it's going to be a big, big day!" I hate this woman. I really do.

I dress hastily though, and am shown to the dining room by the same Avox boy who brought me the message yesterday. As I'm walking, I decide that my best plan of action to deal with Jaing is to pretend that I never discovered what I did. To act normal. If he ever found out that I knew his secret, he'd kill me. Maybe literally.

When I reach the table, the other three are already seated and eating. I take a seat next to Selena and she whispers to me, pointing at a cup full of a brown, rich substance, "What's that?"

"Hot chocolate," I whisper back. "I know because my father brought it as a treat once. Try it, it's good."

She does so, and I turn to the rest of the waiting meal. Eggs, ham, rolls…a never-ending supply of food. My goal during prep week is to gorge myself, so I can maybe last a little longer in the arena. And I begin my goal right here, shoveling eggs into my mouth like a starved animal.

After breakfast, Telleo excuses herself to go, 'look presentable for our glamorous arrival'. Whatever. Jaing takes this opportunity to mumble something about heading to the bar. This sets me off. I shout at his retreating back, "So, uh, you're not going to give us advice or anything? We're kind of in the dark over here."

He turns around sharply, crosses the distance between us, grabs me by the shirt collar and says to me with a crazed gleam in his eyes, "You shut up, right now. I knew your father, you know. You're exactly alike, smart-alecky and cocky. You want some advice? Here's some advice: don't ever talk like that to me again. Or you'll regret it." And he stalks away swiftly.

Yeah, he knew my father all right...I suppress that thought before it threatens to overwhelm me again.

I turn to see Selena looking at me with fear and worry in set in her face. To try and reassure her, I say, "Sorry you had to see that. I'm sure he'll be nice to you."

She replies, "No need to be sorry. I'm just sorry that we have him for a mentor."

Selena and I retire to another car, where we sit in silence near the window and watch the scenery fly by. Before long, an abundance of light floods the compartment. Unable to contain ourselves, Selena and I rush to the window to get a look at the Capitol. The city that my father visited so often. The city where he was killed. By the man over in the next compartment.

It's actually quite a beautiful city. The shining buildings, the wide, paved streets, the magnificent cars. The not so beautiful thing about it is the people. The people with their strange hair, and altered faces. Then again, what's ugly to me is good looking to them. So who's right?

Selena and I both step back from the window as the people begin to point excitedly at us. They recognize the train as one that brings tributes for the Games. They can't wait to watch us die for them…

~/~/~/~/~/

"Did you really have to do that?" I ask the person who just cut my hair.

The person, a woman by the name of Calpurnia whose face is painted like a rainbow says, "Yes, dear. Without that long, curly hair, you look so much more handsome! You look more like a man!"

Another member of my prep team here in the Remake Center, a bright purple-lipped man named Draco chimes in, "Yes! Don't you want those people to actually be able to see your gorgeous emerald eyes?"

Did I mention how much I detest the Capitol people? They're so different from me. Such fools. Such idiots. The prime example of the difference between us: they think my eyes are not green; they're 'emerald'.

So besides cutting my hair, the prep team has also applied a special ointment to fully erase my body of scars that I have accrued over my sparing sessions with my father, and my usual boyhood adventures. They've also done surgical work on my 'emerald eyes', adding flecks of gold to bring out the 'stunning radiance'. I've also been scrubbed down with this nasty, gritty soap that's removed at least one skin layer. I feel totally raw, like a newborn baby.

The third member of the prep team, a thin woman called Ellie says, "Almost done. Just a final wash-down and we're done with you."

So they scrub me down good, shampoo my hair and then exit the room. The plain white room that almost feels like a jail cell. I try the door, just to see. Yep. It's locked.

So, after an hour of being tormented, it's time to meet my stylist. I am quite determined to hate him or her by now.

And I not disappointed. When my stylist arrives, he looks upon me with just a hint of excitement. He walks into the room where i am sitting exposed on the sole bed and says, "Oh my! They didn't tell me you were so good-looking!"

"Uh...."

"My name is Casca," my stylist fills the awrkward silence. Casca is the typical Capitol bimbo: flamboyant orange hair with about thirty facial piercings, and quite a well-rounded paunch that suggests he does nothing resembling physical exercise in his middle age.

"Nice to meet you," I answer out of politness. "I'm Corran."

"Well, Corran, I'm honored to be your stylist for the first annual Hunger Games!"

He looks at me expectatly, like I'm supposed to respond with equal enthusiasum.

"Yeah, me too."

Casca replies, "So, I heard that you didn't respond so favorably to your haircut. Trust me; the short hair really complements your cheekbones and your overall profile well. It looks much more mature, and will win favor with the audience at the opening ceremonies tonight."

If he says so... "Wait…what?" I ask. "What opening ceremonies?"

He gives me a strange look. "Your mentor didn't tell you? All twenty four tributes will be shown off tonight to the Capitol as well as all of Panem. The impression that you make tonight will help determine what you will get in the way of sponsors."

Thanks for telling me, Jaing. Then I have another question. "Sponsors?"

"Your mentor really must dislike you," he says. Oh, if only he knew. "Sponsors are people who can send aid to you in the arena. For example, if you get burned, a sponsor can send you ointment to treat it. You obviously want to have a lot of sponsors, because they may mean the difference between life and death. So it's up to me and my partner Cleia to make you and your fellow tribute Selena look as spectacular as possible tonight. And trust me, you will look spectacular. So follow me and we'll talk."

What? This is all so confusing to take in at once. Hopefully, I'll pick up the ways of the Games in the days to come. Hopefully...

So I follow him to a room where we sit on adjoining plush couches. He sits at one with a panel, and presses a button on one. Food appears seemingly out of thin air, chicken, potatoes, the works. I try to hide my disgust at this as Casca says, "So. Myself and Nevva believe that you and Selena should be dressed in similar costumes. And as you know, (or maybe you don't know) the costumes should somehow reflect the flavor of your District."

I mutter in a pout, almost like a little child, "District 12 is not my District."

Casca's eyes fill with something I cannnot quite place as he looks at me. "Ah," he says. "Are you one of those from District 13?"

My throat locks up. It's all I can do to nod my assent. It is known that people obviously escaped from District 13 before it was obliterated. The Capitol let these people live in order to spread their tale of woe, and to keep the citizens of Panem in fear and awe of the Capitol. And for the most part, it worked.

"Well," Casca continues. "Try and cheer up. You're going to look so wonderful; everyone is going to love you."

~/~/~/~/~/

A few hours later, this is how I find myself dressed in an all-black jumpsuit. Obviously, the black represents the coal-mining that District 12 is generally known for. But the next part is what I believe will really get a reaction out of the crowd.

Because the black jumpsuit is covered with bright yellow lightning bolts meant to represent electricity that are actually glowing, and gold sparkles. I guess the added gold flecks in my eyes also serve to heighten my image. The reasoning behind the lightning as explained to me by Casca was, "Nobody will appreciate the actual mining aspect. So the focus will be coal. What happens to coal? It burns. And what does that burning provide? Energy. And what is energy commonly used for? Electricity. Trust me; you're going to be unforgettable Corran…"

So I'm taken down to the bottom level of the Remake Center, where I see twelve chariots and and twenty-three other tributes milling about in this gigantic nondescript room. Then, my eye catches the sight of Selena and a woman that must be her stylist, Cleia, waiting for Casca and me. But is really Selena that holds my attention.

She is dazzling. If she was pretty before, she is indescribable now. Her nails have been perfectly filled in; her blond hair has been redone into a classic bun that makes her look very grand and royal. She is wearing a black dress that is also glowing with sparkles and lightning bolts. The sight of her is simply breathtaking.

Even though we have barely ever talked in our lives, I suddenly get the urge to make up for this lack of conversation. I sidle up next to her and go, "Wow."

She gives me an appraising glance. "You don't look so bad yourself."

Casca and Cleia come over and direct us into a waiting chariot that will be drawn by a team of black horses apparently. Casca explains to us that we will be riding in this chariot, which will travel down a walkway in front of the entire Capitol. Casca then gives us some last-minute instructions, "Remember. You want them to love you, so act accordingly. You know, smile, wave, and all that jazz."

"You got it," Selena says. I nod agreement.

And before we know it, the opening music begins. It's some sort of fast-tempo beat, which I really find quite bothersome. Oh well.

The first chariot up is the District 1 chariot. The tributes are dressed in silver outfits studded with jewels that absolutely radiate luxury. Of course, as I know that District 1 makes luxury items for the Capitol. As their chariot is riding out, the girl tribute, the one who looks so like me, turns around and stares directly at me for an instant. Before I can wonder what she is doing, she turns back around and starts waving to the crowd.

Curious. But District 2 gets into position to follow District 1, and before I know it, it is our turn. Casca and Cleia activate the mechanisms in our clothes that make the bolts blaze with light. It's time for the show.

When we first enter the city, the crowd begins to chant, "District 12! District 12!" I catch a glimpse of us on a television screen, and see that we are absolutely stunning. The deepening darkness only serves to compliment our brilliance. Remembering Casca's reminder about sponsors and making the audience love you, I start waving and smiling to the crowd. Even though I'm feeling something totally different on the inside towards them...

Beside me, Selena is doing the same. She's even blowing kisses to the crowd. Something I can't do without looking rather...strange let's say.

As we make our way down the grand aisle, I can't help but think of home, of Milla, Aden, Uncle Dane. I wonder what they're making of all of this fanfare and such...

After about twenty minutes or so of this cheering and adulation that makes me want to puke, we reach this humongous circle, where the twelve chariots fill the loop of the circle. The president of Panem comes out to give an official welcome to the audience, where I learn that this circle is actually called the City Circle. Knowing that I am on air, I make my best effort to appear attentive. After he finishes, the chariots take a final lap around the Circle and head inside a building which is labeled with a sign that reads, "Training Center." So I guess this is where we will be trained for the Games.

After a set of giant metallic doors shut behind us, I jump down from the chariot, and turn around to help Selena down. I say to her, "Good job out there."

She gives me the smile that she has just treated all of Panem to and says, "Thanks. You too, Corran." I see no evidence of the crying, sniffling girl on the train. She seems much more composed now...which could actually spell bad news for me.

And then Casca and Cleia are there. Cleia says, "Did you see? The crowd loved you! And the other tributes were looking daggers at you; they were so upset at being showed up! It was great!"

Maybe it was, but some part of me is wondering if our sparkling appearance will only mark us as a target when the Games actually begin…

~/~/~/~/~/

Having never ridden an elevator before in my life, I find it an exhilarating experience as myself; Selena, Casca, and Cleia make the journey to where I will apparently be staying for the next few days in the Training Center. It's quite simple, as all we have to do is press the button labeled '12' for District 12, our floor. When the elevator opens, and we are escorted into the of-course lavish dining room for supper, I see two people that I wish would just leave and never come back: Jaing and Telleo.

Telleo fawns over us by saying, "Oh, my! You two were fabulous! I've already had people contacting me about sponsoring you two!" She then addresses the stylists, "Excellent work!"

All Jaing growls is, "Well done."

We all take our places, and begin to eat. The food for tonight is mushroom soup, turkey, noodles, and more than I can't even describe. All I know is, it tastes good. Small talk is made throughout the various dishes and courses that the seemingly Avox servants throw at us. When the meal is over, Jaing says to me and Selena, "Tomorrow is the beginning of your training. Meet me for breakfast, and we'll discuss our strategy. Now get to bed." He shows no sign of his vicious outburst earlier today. Which is certainly a good thing.

I head to my room and take in the stunning luxury of it with a blink of the eye. I'm actually getting used to it; isn't that the sad part? I change into sleepwear, collapse on the bed, and fall asleep immediately. I'm that tired...

When I wake up in the morning, I find an outfit at the foot of my bed waiting for me. It is a set of black plants, a simple white shirt, and athletic shoes. A clear indicator of the training to come today. I don't even know what this training will entail or how it will happen. Hopefully, Jaing will let me know. But I doubt it…

So I head down to the dining room, and load up a plate with sausages, eggs, pancakes, and the works. I note that Selena is already here, eating, and I sit next to her and make small talk. You know, I don't even know why I'm being nice to her. Soon, I will be put in the position where I will have to kill her. But I'm not a distant person by nature. So I can't help but show kindness towards her... for now.

Before long, Jaing comes in, fills his plate with food, and sits down with us. "So," he says. "We need to get something straight. Would you guys like to be coached together or separately? You might want to be separate if you have skills you may not want to reveal to the other."

"Together," I say instantly. I am not ever going to be alone with Jaing.

Selena gives me a funny look but says, "I don't have any secret skills, so that's fine with me."

Jaing answers, "Alright, so give me an idea of what you guys can do."

"Well," I answer. "I can recognize medicinal, poisonous, and edible plants. I'm decent with a knife and pretty good with a sword."

He gives me a venomous look that seems to say _just like your father, the betraying bastard_. But he only says out loud, "Not bad. And you, Selena?"

"I can't do anything," she says. "I've never had to learn any survival skills in my life." How does she say that so calmly? With the upcoming predicament.

"Ah, the spoiled mayor's daughter," Jaing says mockingly. But unlike the time on the train, Selena does not break down in tears. "Well, all I can say is, you better learn some skills over the next three days of training. Now get lost, both of you. Get to training."

So me and Selena ride the main elevator down to a gigantic gymnasium. It's so much to take in at one glance. The gym is filled with weapons, obstacle courses, and the like. I note that we are the last to arrive; the twenty two others are already waiting. As we arrive, we get our fair share of glares and such, probably as a result of our appearance last night. Well, this is going to be fun…

As the reach the others, the head trainer explains the training rules. There are different stations. Some teach weapons, some teach survival skills. We are not to spar with any other tributes, instructors will be provided if we wish a partner. We are free to move around as we like.

So when the head trainer releases us, all six Elites, the tributes from Districts 1, 2, and 4, head to the most deadly weapons station in the gym and handle them with skill born of years of fighting. I make a snap decision, and go and join the Elites at their station.

I pick up a sword and request a partner to spar with. A young male trainer steps forward and picks up a sword as well.

So round and round we spin, two experts plying their craft. We probe each other, feeling our each other's defenses. Getting a feel for each other's tactics. Before long, I get my sword under his guard and with a wrist snap, disarm him. His sword flies away, and he gives me an approving nod.

I turn around. All six Elites are looking at me, with respect evident in their features. They look very impressed with my display.

One of them, the lean, tough-looking boy from District 1, steps forward from the group and says, "My name is Decius. How'd you like to join our Elite alliance?"

**I felt it was getting too long, so I ended it there...hope that wasn't too bad. By the way, I also edited the past two chapters to add more detail and description and all that jazz.**

**Like I said, please don't quit on this story yet. If you've read some of my other stories, you'll know that I write much better in the actual Games. There's going to be only one more chapter of pre-Game, then we're in the arena, so don't stop reading!**

**My usual message where I plead for reviews: just did. So review! Please!**


	4. Training

**Thanks to hungergamesfan51, AJLL, and castaway5 for reviewing the last chapter. I made this chapter a bit shorter because I get the feeling that it's becoming boring to some. So...review! Please!**

Me? Join in an alliance with the most ruthless, powerful…and most widely-hated clique there is in the Games?

"Nope," I say. "I'm going solo."

Decius curls his lips into a nasty sneer and says with malice, "You got it, District 12. Just remember, you've got…" He breaks off and mockingly counts around the group, "1, 2, 3, 4, 5, _six_ powerful enemies even before the Games have begun. May the odds be ever in your favor on that one."

"I'm sure they will be," I reply snootily. And I walk away, knowing that I have six pairs of eyes staring at my back.

I decide to join Selena at her station. Right now, she's at the camouflage station, her face covered in jungle greens and arctic blues. I walk up to her and say, "Wow, you're pretty good at that."

She replies almost jokingly, "Yeah, it might actually be the one thing that saves me in the end."

I decide to stick with her for the time being, and as the day progresses, I actually learn quite a lot about camouflage and snare setting. Though Selena is a natural at these sorts of mundane survival skills, I actually have to work at them to make myself better.

Lunch is served in a in a dining room near the gymnasium. The Elites all sit together (of course), but the rest of the tributes mostly sit alone. I sit next to Selena and try to engage in small talk, even though it's pretty hard to find a topic when you're about to go off to your death in less then a week.

When the day is over, Selena and I have barely just entered our District's dining room for supper when Jaing starts bombarding us with questions: "How did you do? Were the other tributes looking at you? Were the Gamemakers looking at you? What training stations did you go to? Where-"

"Stop," I say to interupt him. I had only caught one word of his ramble. "Who are the Gamemakers?"

"Nobody told you?" he asks. _What do you think, idiot? _"The Gamemakers are the people who create the arena, and who add twists and turns to it, such as animals and temperature. They will also give all of the tributes a training score at the end of the three days training. Basically, as you can tell by the name, they are in charge of the entire process of the Hunger Games."

"We get scores?" Selena ventures.

Jaing nods. "Yes, the scores are from 1-12, with 12 being the best and 1 the worst. Everyone will receive a private session with the Gamemakers at the end of the third day; this will where your scores will be determined. In your session, do whatever you like to show them that you deserve the score you want.

"You mean…we shouldn't necessarily try and do the best we can?" I ask.

Jaing looks at me. "It's called strategy, you dimwit. Low numbers mean that you are most likely going to be overlooked in the Games. Corran, you should try for the best you can do, because no one will believe that you would actually get a low score. You look athletic and skilled, so make the most of it." Right.

He continues, "Selena…try to get a low score. Actually, you won't even need to try, so don't worry. A low score for you is your best chance of survival when the Games begin."

"Well, you don't have to be rude about it," Selena says. She then storms off haughtily to her room.

I can't help but smile. She's suddenly got some spunk on her.

"What are you grinning about?" Jaing asks menacingly.

Uh oh. "Nothing," I say. I grab some dinner to go and take it back to my room to eat. No sense in provoking the beast...

~/~/~/~/~/~/

The next day begins much the same way. Me and Selena eat another enormous breakfast, go down to the gymnasium, and commence with the training. I go off to the weapons station in order to brush up on my skills with a knife, and when I rejoin Selena at the knot-tying station, I notice she has somebody else with her.

It's the District 5 boy, the one who reminds me so much of my cousin, Aden. He looks at me and goes, "Hi. You must be Corran; Selena's been telling me about you. I'm Loque. Nice to meet you."

My heart is torn at the sight of him. Here's this twelve-year-old boy, trying so hard to be brave when he knows that he'll certainly die in the arena. He's the youngest tribute of the twenty four, but to me, he suddenly seems the oldest in terms of maturity and personality. I fight another battle not to become attached to someone and lose instantly.

"Hey," I say. "So are you and Selena working together?"

"Yes we are," Selena replies for Loque. She gives him a friendly punch on the shoulder and says jokingly, "We figure that us two are about equal to maybe half of an Elite, so we'll certainly give them a run for their money!"

So she's trying to be positive and optimistic as well. I suppose people deal with death sentences in different ways, and this is how she deals with hers. I know I'm dealing with mine by refusing to accept it at all. I'm determined to survive...at whatever the cost.

I turn back to Loque. "So what can you do?"

"Well," he says earnestly. "I'm learning about knot-tying and setting snares and all that. I can't use any weapons. But I sure can climb trees really well."

"Really," I say. This is a good opportunity. "How about we go over to the climbing wall, and you show me and Selena some pointers on climbing?"

"Sounds good to me," he answers readily.

So after an hour spent practicing climbing, with Loque constantly giving me and Selena tips on how to position our hands and feet, and how to find positions to rest in during climbing, I'm actually feeling quite confident about it. Who knows, maybe I'll need to climb a tree to escape pursuit during the Games…

At lunch, Loque joins Selena and me at our table today. Our group of three is the next largest to the group of six Elites; isn't that rather pathetic? Over our meal of lamb stew, apples, and cheese, he questions, "So, what does one do for a living in District 12?"

Selena answers obediently, "Coal-mining. Important stuff, right? Sometimes I get the feeling that our District is going to become the most ridiculed out of all of Panem pretty soon because of that job…"

Loque laughs. "My District's main profession isn't much better. In District 5, one mainly works at the textile factories."

"It's more respectable than coal-mining," I say. Even though District 13 wasn't much better with the profession of mining graphite...

"Maybe so...but all of the Districts are crap on the Capitol's shiny new boots anyway," says Loque bitterly. How right he is...

So the rest of the day progresses pretty quickly. A few times I'd look up from the station I was at to find a few Elites staring at me menacingly. I'd give them my widest smile in return, and go back to my work. I'd also find the time to help out Selena and Loque with their knowledge in terms of plants, but I get the feeling that my lessons weren't always taken seriously all the time.

I'd think this when Selena would say something like,"Hey, Loque, has anyone ever told you that you look like a fox with that red hair? Who needs to learn about these stupid plants, you can just go act like a fox and scavenge food from the others for us, right?"

Loque laughs and goes, "Yeah, my younger sister tells me that quite a lot." He quickly falls silent after saying this though. His words have a sobering effect, as we are all reminded of home back in the Districts.

After a luscious dinner that night, the only advice Jaing imparts to Selena and I is, "Remember. Corran, do your best tomorrow in front of the Gamemakers. Selena, do mediocre. These scores are a big part of the Games, so what ever you do, don't screw up."

"So no pressure, right?" I ask sarcastically.

Jaing is about to respond when Selena goes, "Mediocre...sure thing, pal." Boy, she's really got a mouth on her now...

"Is this some kind of joke to you? Remember, I'm all that stands between you and death in these Games. Your strategy comes from me; you don't get sponsors without me. You need me, sweetheart," growls Jaing. His face begins to puff up in anger, and shows the signs of becoming red.

"Calm down, young man. I just wanted to see your reaction," says Selena. "Your face was totally worth it." She then wisely chooses to make a hasty exit from the dining table before Jaing's outburst.

I smother a snort and follow her out of the room, knowing that I have yet another pair of hostile eyes following my retreat.

~/~/~/~/~/

At lunch, on the third day of training, the Gamemakers begin to call out the tributes one by one, first the boy, then the girl. District 1 starts, then District 2, and so on. While Selena, Loque, and I are waiting, Loque says to me a little hesitantly, "Corran…you're not going to try and harm me or Selena in the arena, or you?"

"Of course not," I say. That hurts. The kid thinks of me as a killer. An Elite in all but name. "In fact, I'll tell you what. If I see or hear you or Selena in trouble, I'll come and help you out. But for the most part, I'm still going it alone."

Loque looks relieved. Then his face screws up in anxiety as we hear, "District 5! Loque Y!" called out.

"Good luck," Selena and I each tell him. He nods quickly and walks away.

Selena and I sit in silence, contemplating about our upcoming private sessions after Loque departs. Before long, I hear, "District 12! Corran S!

Selena says to me hesitantly, "Good luck."

"Thanks," I answer honestly. "You too." And I stride confidently into the gymnasium.

And I see that the Gamemakers are bored. They've sat through too many demonstrations already. Nobody seems to be paying any attention to me. I'm like a fly on the wall. But there's nothing I can do but continue with the plan.

I pick up a sword and request two sparring partners. Yep, two. I want to put on a show. So the three of us spin round and round, weaving and bobbing around the gymnasium, clashing our swords with each other. Some of the Gamemakers are starting to pay attention, but most are still concentrated on their food at their table. Time to change that.

I let the two drive me back towards the Gamemakers table. As we get closer and closer, I notice that some are starting to look fearful. Though this fills me with disgust at the fact that they have no right to be afraid when I'm the tribute here, I don't let it affect my performance. When we're close enough to the table, I time it right, and backflip _over _a Gamemaker's head to land on the other side of the table. Now I notice that they are all looking at me approvingly.

I don't miss a beat, however, and flip back over the table, and while I'm in the air, I disarm one of my opponents with a slash. He draws away.

Without turning around, with my back to the other sword-wielder and the Gamemakers, I listen for the sound of the whistling wind at my back that will signify a coming slash from the last opponent. When it does come, I barrel roll to the side, get up quickly, and snap my sword inside my remaining opponent's guard to send his sword flying away. He gives me a nod and steps back.

After that, I walk casually over to the plants section, where I easily identify each type as medicinal, edible, or poisonous. Next up is the knife station. I send knives flying into the targets. Each knife hits somewhere near the center, or the center itself. When the Gamemakers send me on my way, I know I have done well.

At dinner that night, when they are serving the main course of pork chops, Jaing grudgingly asks Selena and me, "So, how did you do today?" I can tell that if he wasn't bound by this mentoring obligation, he would definately have left us out in the cold by now...

"I feel I did OK," Selena says. Why does she have a twinkle in her eye as she says this?

"They weren't paying attention to me at first, but by the end, I know they were," I say.

"Well, let's go see just how bad you did," Jaing says mockingly.

The three of us get up and go to a room to watch the playing of the training scores. Joining us for this is Telleo, and the two airhead stylists, Casca and Cleia. What wonderful company to spend time with...

On the television in the sitting room, the announcing of the scores is beginning. First they show a photo of the tribute, and then flash the score below the photo. I notice both of the District 1 tributes score a ten, while the rest of the Elites either score an eight or a nine. Loque, scores a six. The Gamemakers must have really been impressed with his survival skills for them to score him that high.

Most of the other tributes average a five, except for the volunteer District 6 girl who scores an eight, like some Elites. I wonder if she'll end up allying with them…

Before I know it, it is my turn. As my face comes up, I'm actually quite calm. Whatever I get, I get. Then the number ten is flashing on the screen.

Around me, everyone is slapping on the back and congratulating me. Well, everyone except Jaing. "That's the highest score in the Games yet; the same score as District 1 got," exclaims Casca. "Way to go!"

Everyone in the small room then hushes for Selena's score. I'm expecting her to pull about a three. But everyone in the room is rudely shocked when the number comes up onscreen.

Because the formerly delicate, fragile, 'I can't do anything; I'm the Mayor's daughter' Selena has just scored the first twelve of the entire Hunger Games.

**Please, please review! They're what keep me writing, they make my day, so please take the time to leave a little comment!**


	5. Setback

**Thanks to all who reviewed the last chapter. Here's the final chapter before the games, chapter five!**

Jaing breaks the silence that has fallen over the room by growling, "How the hell did you do that, sweetheart? What, did you whore yourself out to the Gamemakers or something?"

"Must you always be so vulgar, Jaing? Honestly," Selena retorts. "How I did it is something I'd like not to share right now. It's my personal secret."

"You won't even give us one little hint, dear?" Telleo shrieks.

"Nope," Selena says. "In fact, I'm going to sleep. I'm kind of tired. Night all."

As I lie in my bed tonight, I'm forced to revise my opinion of Selena. Apparently, she's not a helpless girl; apparently, she has some talent. I wonder if she's still going to ally with Loque, or if she will simply go it alone…

I wonder if this score means that she has a ruthless side that I have not yet seen…I wonder if it means that she will come after me and try to kill me in the Games…

At breakfast the next morning, the stylists are not there. It is only me, Selena, Jaing, and Telleo. Jaing begins by saying, "Ok, listen up. Tomorrow, all of the tributes are going to be interviewed in front of all of Panem. This is another crucial step into getting sponsors towards your cause. Today, I'm going to coach you on content for four hours, and Telleo here will coach you on presentation for four hours. You'll both start with Telleo. Get to it."

So we both follow Telleo to her personal quarters. The walls are covered with all sorts of unbelievable fake Capitol propaganda, advertisements, and the like. Ugh.

Telleo goes into her closet and comes out with a set of clothes, one female pair and one male pair. "Here," she says thrusting a set of clothes each at me and Selena. "Change into these. And make it snappy."

"Um…"

"It's nothing I haven't seen before, Corran," barks Telleo. "Now go on, change."

I force down a rather disturbing thought and get to it. Selena and I turn our backs to each other and begin the trial of dressing in these fancy-shmancy clothes. The set that Telleo picked out for me consists of a tight, constricting tuxedo. I can barely move in this thing! Coupled with the tux and the finely-tailored pants, I gingerly get my feet into a pair of shoes that feel like they are two sizes too small. And I'm supposed walk and talk and smile and be charming in all of this?

After Telleo has let us know that it is safe for us to turn around, I take in Selena's appearance. I can tell that she's not too comfortable either in her clothes, which are equally lavish to mine. But I don't feel bad for her. Not with a score like that.

After taking us both in, Telleo say, "Ok. So part of succeeding at this interview is looking nice. You need to be presentable. So, we're going to practice walking, talking, and most importantly, smiling. Without a smile, your whole image will fall apart. So, let's get to it!"

~/~/~/~/~/

"That wasn't so bad," says Selena.

Easy for her to say. She somehow mastered the art of walking around easily in high heels and an extremely low dress very quickly. I, on the other hand, could barely move my toes let alone my feet in my getup. Of course, being the Mayor's daughter comes in handy for things like that.

When I only respond with a sullen look, Selena asks me, "What's wrong Corran?" Then realization dawns upon her face. "It's because of my score, isn't it?"

"Of course it's because of your score," I say angrily. "How in the world can you expect me to talk to you and trust you when you've been lying to me the whole time? Saying you were weak and helpless. Teaming up with another weak and helpless little kid. I bet you're going kill him the second we get into the arena, aren't you? Well, guess what. You won't get the chance to kill me, because from now on, I'm saying the hell away from you." And I storm away, my footfalls echoing on the plush carpet in the hallway. That's how ticked I am.

After a scrumptious lunch, Jaing, Selena and I stay seated in the dining room. It's time for the second four hours of torture to begin. Another disturbing thought, this one concerning torture comes to mind, and I quickly stomp on that before it can plague me for the remainder of the day.

For this session, I don't even acknowledge Selena's presence. I just look at Jaing pretty much the entire time. This actually is almost making me regret my self-imposed refusal to speak to Selena.

Jaing kicks off the session by saying, "Listen up, you two. The plan for both of you is, strong and confident. After seeing your scores last night, nobody is going to believe you if you play up the weak and frightened angle."

"Don't we get a say in this? What are you, the president or something?" I wisecrack.

Jaing leans closer to me and hisses, "No, I'm just the guy who holds the knowledge and the power to keep you alive. Remember that, tough guy."

I hold up my hands innocently. "Hey, I'm just practicing the confidence angle. See, look, I'm a natural!"

Jaing chooses not to respond and instead fires a series of questions at both Selena and I. Selena answers the questions with flair, even showing off a little sexiness in her answers.

"Oh, I like that, sweetheart," says Jaing. "That's a sure-fire way to get some sponsors."

"I think so too," replies Selena.

Them acting all nice and pleasant makes me want to puke. But I just grit my teeth, and try to answer the questions like Jaing said: strongly, and confidently. I channel all the anger I'm feeling at Jaing, at Selena, at the Capitol, and the whole damn world in general, and use it in my answers. But it's not enough.

"You need to add a little wittiness and humor into your responses," says Jaing.

"But I'm not funny or anything," I shoot back.

He says sarcastically, "Well, you're always mouthing off to me. I'm sure you'll come up with something."

Touché.

I have dinner that night in my room, ordering an outrageous number of delicacies, and eat myself sick. As I eat alone, I can't shake the feeling I have. It's one of frustration, exasperation, raw anger, and pure fear. Of course, the root of all these emotions being the Hunger Games. Which start the day after tomorrow. Not a soothing thought to think while trying to sleep, but eventually, I do shut my eyes.

~/~/~/~/~/

When I wake up, my simple-minded prep team is hanging over me. "Up, up, up!" they sing in perfect harmony. "It's going to be a big, big, day!"

I think I've had my fill of those…

The prep team works on me until late afternoon. Keeping with the theme of electricity and lightning, my hair is spiked up in such a way as to represent that theme. They apply minimal makeup to my face, and cover my body in some sort of dust that has some kind of metallic luster.

When the prep team is done prepping me, Casca enters with what I assume is my outfit. It's a dark black suit, with lighting accents. Simple, and flashy.

As he's helping me into the suit, I ask him, "Can you tell me how it's going to work tonight? I really didn't want to get the information from Jaing or Telleo. I'm not too fond of either of them."

He chuckles. "Me neither, to be honest with you. Well, tonight, after you leave this building, you'll be on camera on a brand-new stage in front of the Training Center. The interviewer's name is Julius Flickerman. He'll probably ask you about your home, how you think you'll do in the Games…and all that. How are you feeling about the interview?"

"Just fine," I say.

When I am fully dressed, I take a look at myself in the mirror. Damn, I'm looking pretty good.

Casca and I meet up with Selena, Cleia, Jaing, and Telleo over at the District 12 elevator. While I'd never say it to her out loud, Selena looks beautiful in a sparkling black dress studded with gems. Everyone else is equally fancied up for the occasion. Even good ol' Jaing.

So we ride the elevator down to the first floor, and when it opens, we see the other twenty-two tributes standing in a single-file line, with the District 1 girl being first. So what do we do? We follow the lead, and step into line in the appropriate order. As the line leader begins walking onto the stage that I see is right outside like Casca had said, I notice twenty four chairs arranged in a ring around the stage. So once again, we follow the lead of the tributes in front of us. Selena takes the second to last chair, and I take the very last chair. Well, that whole process was easy, right?

Looking outward from the stage, there are a slew of chairs. Packed with people, of course. There are also balconies set along the surrounding buildings. And everyone single inch of space in them is filled. I feel like an animal on display. This, to these people, is exactly what I am.

Before the cameras start rolling, a tall, thin man bounces onto the stage. His hair and eyebrows are a crimson red, which reminds me of blood. Lovely. So this must be Julius Flickerman, the interviewer.

He says jauntily to all twenty-four of us, "Hey, all. Glad you're here." Like we had a choice. "So, this is the deal. When your name is called, you're going to stand up and walk up to where I am t the center of the stage. Then we will have three minutes of interviewing time, at the end of which a buzzer will sound. Good luck, and may the odds be ever in your favor."

And of course I'd be the one who is going last. Dead last. With the emphasis hopefully not on the dead starting tomorrow.

A cameraman counts backward, and just like that, we're being broadcast to the entire nation of Panem. I wonder what Uncle Dane, Aden, and Milla are thinking as they're watching this…

Julius makes a few introductory remarks, and then the interviews begin. First up is the District 1 girl who is looking like a vision in a sleek, silver gown. I wonder what her angle is...sexy of course.

I sit like a proper adult, just as Telleo taught me and watch as the interviews slip by. Everyone is playing up an angle, just like their mentors taught them. Decius from 1 is a ruthless killing machine. Loque from 5 is cunning and elusive. The volunteer girl from 6 seems rather cruel and cold-hearted.

The thing I notice is, Julius Flickerman is not a very good interviewer. I mean, aren't you supposed to make the tributes look good with your reactions? But if a tribute says something that sounds stupid, it comes out sounding exactly that: stupid.

For example, Julius asks the girl from 11 the question, "What has impressed you most about the Capitol since you've been here?"

She replies, "Um…I don't know." Poor girl. She looks terrified. And Julius says nothing to help her answer look better or seem better to the crowd. Man, they really need to get a better interviewer…

The boy from 11, Emery, is a curious case to me. Although he is around my age and build, he only scored a two in front of the Gamemakers. In his interview, he is very shy and quiet. I have to wonder, is his personality for real, or will he pull a Selena and suddenly become one of the most deadly killers in the Games?

And speaking of Selena, here she is, dazzling and absolutely radiant. After she walks confidently up to where Julius is and shakes his hand, Julius asks her, "So, Selena. How did you feel when your name was called at the Reaping, you being the District 12 Mayor's daughter and all?"

Selena replies, "Well, I was shocked of course. I mean the odds were so slim, you know? I guess the hardest part was saying goodbye to everyone in the District, because I knew it might be for the last time."

Julius laughs softly. "So, any special boys that it pained you the most to say goodbye to?"

"Oh, yeah," answers Selena jokingly. "Try, like…ten of them." Then she winks seductively at the crowd.

They eat that up. Especially the males in the place. Julius, fighting to make himself heard above the jeers and catcalls, says, "Oh, boy. We've got ourselves a real wonder here, right folks? So I bet you're going to try your hardest to win the Games so as not to break half of Panem's hearts, right Selena?"

"You bet," answers Selena. She's making me sick to my stomach.

"And from the looks of your training score, I'd say you've got the best chance to win, too. How does it feel to know that you are the first tribute ever to claim the top score in the Hunger Games, Selena?"

"It sure does feel good," says Selena. "Maybe it has marked me as a target-." Here she breaks off and looks around at the other tributes. Some meet her stare defiantly. Others look away out of reflexive fear. Personally, I give her my nastiest glare. "But I know I can handle anything that is thrown at me."

The buzzer sounds, and then all of a sudden, it's my turn. To try and steady my mounting nerves, I remember the main strategy. Confidence.

As I walk up and shake Julius's hand, he goes, "Ooh, this one's got a strong grip! Do tell, where did that strength come from?"

"You're looking at a real warrior here," I say with every ounce of pride as I can muster. This isn't saying much, because right now, the business of fighting is making me sick.

Julius responds, "Well, speaking of warriors, I happened to notice that you share a surname with a former great soldier of ours, his first name being Kal. Just curious, there isn't any relation, correct?"

My knees almost buckle. My heart starts beating even faster than it already is. In all the hours of training, I had never anticipated this question. "Y-yes," I stutter out. "He…he was my father."

There's a collective gasp from the audience. "So, you're the son of the most famous traitor ever to live here in the Capitol?" asks Julius. "The man who was practically the entire machine of the rebellion against the Capitol. That Kal Skirata?"

My confidence instantly evaporates. Oh, crap. This is not good. Only thing to do now is to tell the truth. "Yep, that's me," I say.

As I gauge the reactions of the audience, I can see that most of them either look shocked or enraged. I didn't know my father was this widely loathed around here. This newfound knowledge stabs a new hole through the still-healing wound in my heart about the nature of his death.

"Well, well…" muses Julius. "You better hope that ten of yours in front of the Gamemakers means you can fight, Corran Skirata. Because it sure appears that you will certainly be lacking in the sponsor department."

It's all I can do to not punch his lights out. I'd die a painful death if I tried anything like that. I calm myself and reply, "I sure can fight. You just watch me."

The buzzer sounds. Julius Flickerman goes, "Time's up. Good luck to you, Corran Skirata, District 12 tribute. You're sure going to need it…"

After I stumble back to my seat and while the anthem is playing, I can only think about how disastrous my interview was. I am definitely not going to get a single sponsor. And without a sponsor, how the hell am I going to win these Games?

Like before the interviews, I follow the other tributes. The District 1 girl, walking next to me, gives me a sympathetic look. I don't return it. I'm too caught up in my own thoughts, replaying that awful interview. I can only imagine how everyone back in District 12 is feeling...

The tributes all file back into the Training Center, and board the elevators. I make sure to get into one with total strangers. When the elevator stops on floor 12, I head into the dining room to find the two stylists, Selena, Jaing, and Telleo there already waiting for me. Sitting down, staring at me awkwardly.

The first one to break the tension is Casca. He says to me, "Hey. Chin up. It could have been worse, Corr."

"HOW THE HELL COULD IT HAVE BEEN WORSE? HOW CAN YOU, IN YOUR RIGHT MIND, THINK THAT?" I scream at him. My shock and disbelief has transformed into raw anger. I'm pissed now.

Of course Telleo would pick this moment to exclaim, "Well, Selena dear, at least you did so well!"

That's it. I snap. I storm to my room, not caring about eating, not caring about anything. I'm beyond that.

I have just entered my room and am about to slam the door shut when someone catches it and stops it from closing. "Corran," says Jaing.

He doesn't get any further. "AND YOU'RE THE ONE WHO KILLED HIM, YOU BASTARD. YOU'RE THE ONE WHO TOOK MY FATHER AWAY FROM ME!"

Jaing's face wears a shocked expression that quickly changes to one of anger. But his voice remains for the most part calm as he says, "I'm not even going to ask how you know that. But I'll tell you something I bet you didn't know about your old Dad. Did you know he ran off with my wife at one time? It was when your mother was pregnant with you, too. We used to be good buddies…and then we became mortal enemies after his betrayal that cut so deeply."

I collapse backward onto my bed as Jaing continues with his tale, "See…you don't know everything, Corran. So when your father finally defected, I was overjoyed. I could finally take my revenge without having to suffer the legal consequences. Did you know that I rescued him personally from that camp at the mountain base before it was blown up? I didn't want his death to be too quick. No…I made him suffer. Just like I hope you do in these Games."

"So, Corran, break a leg tomorrow. Literally." Jaing stalks out of the room and slams the door behind him.

I lie on my back on the bed and just think. The day, having begun so well, has ended in dreadful fashion. I'm definitely sponsor-less, I don't have the slightest ally for the Games, and I've just been handed some mind-boggling revelations.

Did my father really cheat on my mother? When I think of my dad, back home in District 13, he never showed the slightest indication of loving another woman. But why else could Jaing hate him so much?

And I just can't get over the fact that I will most certainly have no sponsors. I mean, no sponsors practically mean certain death. And death is something I'm not ready to face yet.

So as I lie in the bed, I make the decision to not face death. I make the decision to win.

And with that scrap of hope to hold on to, I eventually fall asleep.

~/~/~/~/~/

I am being shaken by the shoulder. "Come on," says Casca. "Get up. It's time to travel to the arena."

I open my eyes groggily. "Ugh…what time is it?"

"About six in the morning," says Casca. He gives me a set of a simple shirt and pants to wear. He also produces a basket of rolls for me. "Here. You must be starving since you…didn't eat dinner last night."

Oh, right. Last night I hit rock bottom. But it seems like those events happened to another Corran. A Corran of the past. This Corran…this Corran is determined to win the Games. No matter how much the odds are stacked against him.

I take the offered rolls, and munch on a few while we walk to the roof. Once we're there, a hovercraft appears out of thin air. I wince inwardly. Ever since that day when I first came to District 12…I haven't been too good with hovercrafts.

But as I place my hands at feet on the drop-down ladder to enter the craft, I find myself glued to the ladder. "What's happening?" I ask.

As I am lifted into the craft, a woman in a white coat approaches me and abruptly sticks me with a needle. "This is your tracking device," she says. "So we know where you are at all times."

Wonderful.

The ride on the hovercraft lasts about an hour, during which I continue gorging myself on food. I better enjoy it while it lasts…

When the hovercraft stops, Casca and I go back down the ladder to find ourselves in a network of subterrean tunnels. "What is this place?" I ask him.

He answers, "These are the catacombs that lie beneath the arena. The area from which you will enter the arena."

He leads me to a room that smells of the sterile scent of that newness. As I look around, everything is brand-new. Of course. It's like fattening the calf before you slaughter it…I mentally christen this room in my mind as the Stockyard.

After a short wait, the clothes that I will be wearing arrive. "Let's see what we've got here," says Casca. And what we've got here are a set of simple undergarments, a green short-sleeve shirt, simple gray pants, a sturdy black belt, and a black hooded jacket. The shoes are a pair of rubber-soled sneakers. Good for running.

After I am dressed, I ask him, "How will I be entering the arena?"

He points to a corner of the room. There is a metal circle in that corner. "When it's time, you will stand on that circle and be raised up."

So that answers that question. I sit on a plush couch, and anxiously sip some water. I almost wish that the Games would start. I'm afraid I'll go crazy with the pent-up emotions I'm feeling right now.

And I get my wish. A female voice announces that it's time to prepare for launch. So I walk over and stand on the metal circle.

"Corran, don't give up hope. You're strong. You can do it," says Casca in what he thinks is a reassuring voice.

Whatever. But for politeness sake, I say, "Thanks, Casca. You're a good guy."

And then a glass cylinder is lowering around me. Apparently it is soundproof, because Casca has one final thought, but I can't hear what he's saying. He's frantically gesturing now, holding up the number six then the number zero with his hands. What is he talking about?

And then I'm rising into the arena. I gasp as I get my first look at the playing field for the first ever Hunger Games. But when I think about it, it sends the perfect message to the rest of Panem.

Because the arena for the first ever Hunger Games is a perfect simulacrum of pre-devastation District 13.

**Please review, they totally make my day, please!**


	6. The Games Begin

**Sorry for taking a long time to update. I'm busy with school, and my other stories, and all that jazz. Thanks to all who last reviewed; here's chapter 6!**

I can't believe it.

Why? Why did the Capitol have to make District 13 the arena? Do they know the painful memories that dredges up for me?

Of course they do. Not only did they make me sponsor-less, now they want to break me emotionally.

But of course, the arena will also work wonders on the rest of Panem. A show of force against those who might be inclined to rebel again.

Well, their plan won't work. I'm going to ignore the sorrow that I feel in my heart right now, and concentrate on the positive: I have homefield advantage for these games. And that could very well prove the difference.

What I see from my initial standpoint is a huge golden horn situated in the middle of District 13's town square. And scattered around this horn are vast amounts of supplies and weapons. I can see a lot of knives, a couple of swords, a bow and arrow set, spears…even a few maces. Also there are some plastic covering, tents, packs…the amount of supplies is endless. I guess we all have our pick, right?

And farthest away from the centered horn is us. The tributes. All twenty-four of us are arranged in a humongous ring equidistant from the golden horn in the middle of the square.

But I still cannot believe the exact replication of my former home that the Capitol has created. If I didn't know better, I could have sworn that this was the real deal. I mean, the same shops are scattered around the cobbled-stoned tiles, the same bright banners are hanging from the balconies of the surrounding buildings.

And though I can't see that far, I know that as you get farther away from the square, you come across the various homes built in the District. Some are dilapidated, and some are luxurious. I can't help but think that these buildings would offer excellent hiding places…

And past the homes lie the woods. The woods that my parents used to lead me into in order to equip me with the necessary skills that I will definatly need in the coming days. It's almost as if they knew that this would happen…

But the only difference between the arena and the original District 13 would be the number of people. The old District 13 was absolutely teeming with life…but this arena…is utterly devoid of it. Except for my fellow tributes of course…

And as I look around, I can tell that some are going to take flight…but most are going to fight.

I see Selena and Loque from District 5 making eye contact with other, giving silent signals on what each of them should do. Judging from this, their alliance is still going strong. Though I still wouldn't want to be in Loque's shoes right now…

But my biggest question is; why isn't anybody stepping off of their circles? Everyone's body language is tense and constricted, as if they're afraid to move the slightest muscle. Well, I don't know why, but I'm certainly going to be the one to make the first move.

But just before I take the first step off of the circle, I hear the sound of a large explosion. What could this be?

Whipping around, I see that a young girl is now lying on the ground near her circle, both of her legs missing, blood pumping rapidly from her body. She doesn't have long to live. Despite my feelings of sorrow towards her, I am puzzled. Why did this happen?

Then the answer hits me. "It's mined," I whisper to myself.

That explains everything. I recall the raw fury evident in Jaing's face and words from last night. He must have been withholding this information from me, hoping that I'd rush off the platform and die instantly. Well, he won't get that lucky.

I look up to the television cameras that I can't possibly see, and give a smirk. _Corran-1. Jaing-0. _

But one more hole remains to be filled. Why was Casca signaling the number sixty over and over with his hands as I was raised into the arena? Come to think of it, he was also sort of pushing his hands, as if signaling to wait.

Wait…sixty?

Finally, it snaps. Move off of the circle before sixty seconds are up, and you're blown sky-high. Would've been nice to know before I got in the arena, but hey, it all turned out fine.

But how will I know when sixty seconds are up?

The sound of a gong crashing reverberates through the square. Twenty guesses on what that means, right?

I sprint from my circle, and note that everyone else is doing the same. Only, they all have plans. A plan on which item or weapon to grab, or a plan to simply run away from this area immediately. My plan? I'm winging it.

About ten yards away from me, I spot a knife. A long, serrated knife with a curved blade. As good a weapon as any. And I'm going to need a weapon in order to survive these Games. So without hesitation, I head towards that knife.

Another boy reaches the knife at the same time as I do. But before either of us lay a hand on it, the boy crumples to the ground with a spear in his neck. Apparently, some others have already gotten their hands on weapons and are now spreading out to attack.

Looking over the dead boy's shoulder, I see the spear-thrower pick up another spear to throw. It's Decius from 1, of course. Who else would it be? Obviously, he plans to make good on his promise of death for me. He grins widely as he releases the spear on its unflinching path of death towards me.

Only one option left for me. I pick up two things: the knife still laying on the ground…and the body of the dead boy. I shove the knife in my belt, and hold onto the boy, who still has the spear in his shoulder, with both hands.

As I grip the boy's body facing outwards away from me, Decius's spear suddenly appears in the torso of the body, coming to rest just inches away from me. I very nearly lose it when I am splattered with the dead boy's blood, but I just barely keep my head together.

Not wanting to stick around any longer, I backpedal rapidly out of the town square, still holding the dead body in front of me as a shield. And a good thing too, because my make-shift protection stops two knives from hitting me while I make my break.

My last glimpse of the District 13 town square reveals many tributes, too many to count, fighting each other, with cannons firing all the while. It seems that whenever a tribute goes down, a cannon fires. So a firing of a cannon must mark a death. Good to know.

After I have released my hold on the dead boy, I stop behind one of the nearby houses for a minute. I have to make a choice. Should I go to the surrounding woods, or stay in hidey-holes here in the town itself?

The decision doesn't take long. The woods. Where I will hopefully steady source of food and water to replenish me daily. Having made my decision, I continue to jog on my course away from the District 13 main square.

Once within the enclosed cover of the forest, I don't stop jogging. I want to put as much distance between the main square and myself as possible.

My first priority: to find a source of water. I can go for a time without food, but I won't last long without water.

The trees begin to change around me. The gentle oak trees gradually become the sparse pines that will offer me practically next-to-zero cover. As I run along, I cut a strip of bark off a pine tree and munch on it without reservations. I've done this many times before in the woods. Only, my parents were there with me. Now, I'm all alone.

The ground starts to slope upwards, which is a good sign. Having the high ground will be more beneficial in the long run, because I'll have a better chance of finding water, and I'll be able to see my enemies approaching.

I'm actually not feeling too exhausted just yet. Prep week allowed me to gorge myself on the fatty foods that will hopefully help me not feel the hunger pangs that are sure to happen. To avoid those…I need to find food.

And my unspoken wish is rewarded when I break into a small clearing that is home to a variety of berry bushes. The only problem is; there's someone here already.

That someone is a small girl, I think from District 7, ripping the berries off of the bushes and shoving them into her mouth. But…I see that something's not quite right. "Don't eat those!" I exclaim to her.

She whips around at the sound of my voice. She opens her mouth as if to say, "Why not?"

Bu the words never come out, because she topples to the ground, dead. A victim of poison.

Until that point, it hadn't really hit me yet. I mean, I was all jacked up on adrenaline back at the main square of District 13. But what has just transpired right here, right now, makes me think.

People will die in these Hunger Games. People will _die_. Gone, out of this world, packed up in a coffin, and sent home to the agonizing tears of their family.

And then I'm thinking about those who may have already died. Could Selena have died? Could Loque have been already cut down? Or maybe Emery from 11? Decius?

But I can't worry about others. This is a rough business. I can only watch out for #1. Myself.

As a cannon fires, I walk over to evaluate the berry bushes that claimed the life of this young girl whose name I do not even know.

And the irony of it is; she picked the only poisonous berry copse there was in this area…

I grab a few berries off the non-poisonous bushes, and bite into them, feeling the sweet juices slide down my throat. This will help stave off thirst, but I do really need to find water soon.

And then a noise from the air makes me look up in confusion. What could be making this whirring sound, this artificial disruption that sounds so out of place in this serene forest?

It almost sounds like…sounds like…a hovercraft?

Yes, it is a hovercraft. And this hovercraft hovers in the air over the body of the deal girl in the clearing where I am in, and extends a pair of mechanical jaws that close around the body and raise it into the waiting craft.

So a hovercraft takes away the dead bodies from this hell called an arena. It makes sense. Simple. Quick. Efficient. The Capitol gives nothing but the best treatment for the dead children they they've killed, right?

Nothing left for me to do but to keep moving. So I do.

~/~/~/~/

Close to nightfall, my strength is flagging. I need water. The berries helped, but it's simply not enough. I am just about to give it up and find someplace to stay for the night when I see it. Water.

I rush over to the pond that I've spotted, and without a second thought, greedily kneel down on all fours and slurp up the refreshing liquid. I show no restraint as I crouch there, drinking the vital liquid like a common dog might do.

While I'm drinking, I also splash some water on my clothes to try and wash the blood off of them. The blood of the boy who I used as a shield to save my own life…

And not only does this pond relieve my thirst and clean my garments, but I also spot something else that will help stave off my hunger. Pond lilies!

I dig up the roots of some lilies, and munch into the roots without hesitation. This pond is really a life-saver…

After indulging myself with some more lily roots and sips of precious water, I stand up to find a place to stay for the night. I have to decide: should I take roost in a tree, or find a hidey-hole somewhere on the ground?

But I hold off on making the choice for a moment when I hear a jarring discordant melody that I recognize as the anthem of Panem. It seems to be coming from above, so I glance upwards to the sky.

And what I see is a message illuminated in bright white lettering that contrasts sharply with the darkening sky. And this is what the message says:

"The national anthem of Panem will play each night as the sun goes down. The faces shown afterwards in the sky will be the faces of those who have died during the day. Good luck, and may the odds be ever in your favor."

Ok. So now let's see who died today…

As the faces come up, I keep a running tally on my fingers. I have no idea of how many died today, because the cannons were firing during the initial fighting at the District 13 town square, and as one can imagine, I was a little preoccupied with the whole business of staying alive.

And I can't help but think, on the first day, they really ought to fire the cannons after all the fighting is done. This way, at least the remaining tributes would know how many are left…

Right now, first to appear in the sky is the boy who I used as a human shield on my way out of the square. The number 3 appears below the image of his face, so putting two and two together, he must be from District 3.

I almost feel bad about the way I abused his body…but there was no other choice. It was either that, or die. I have to stop these feelings of regret, or else I'll cripple myself before I even get to fight other tributes.

Next to appear in the sky is the girl from District 5. So, all the Elites made it through the day. No surprise there.

And so did Loque. Not having seen him since the square, I have to wonder, are he and Selena still together? Did they get separated? Is Selena gone? I guess I'll just have to find out…

Then comes the boy from 6, and both from 7. Yes, there's the girl who died from the poisonous berries right in front of my eyes. At the sight of her face, I shut down the emotions before they rise to the surface. No remorse.

Then all the tributes from 8, 9, and 10 appear in the sky. And the last to appear is the girl from District 11. So, Emery made it. And so did Selena.

I can't put a finger on my conflicting emotions with Selena. A part of me distrusts her to the max, because I still don't know how she got that eleven. And it's driving me crazy. How did she do it?

But another part of me wants to believe that she means no harm. That if she comes across me, she won't try to kill me. This is an extremely naïve thought, and from my experience, the naïve thoughts are almost never true. So, I have to assume the worst.

But on another note, twelve tributes have died today. Twelve! Exactly half of the number that started these Games! Just like my conflicting feelings about Selena, so do I have about this matter.

Part of me is sad at the deaths of so many young children. But another part is rejoicing, knowing that I am that much closer to going home. To seeing my loved ones again. To living a long and happy life.

And then my reminiscent thoughts of home are cut off abruptly when I feel a sharp pain in my stomach. It feels as if my guts are on fire. I am forced to my knees, panting by the sheer stabbing agony that I feel inside of me. And through the pain, I can only think, why do I feel this way?

Then it hits me. "I didn't purify the pond water," I whisper to myself.

How stupid could I have been? I had let myself be overcome with the feelings of thirst, never thinking of the consequences.

I need certain pills to alleviate this horrible feeling. While drinking contaminated water is not fatal, it's certainly not advised. I'm now a sitting duck for anyone to come along and kill me; I'm simply incapacitated by the overwhelming lurching of my stomach.

"I need medicine," I speak in a clear tone, the loudest I can muster. This is one thing Casca had explained to me before the Games; if you need something, just say it aloud. Your mentor will send you what you need from your sponsors…if you have sponsors.

And then I remember. I don't even have sponsors! Well, not like Jaing would send me anything anyway…but what the hell am I going to do now? This situation just couldn't get any worse…

Never speak too soon. Just then, I hear the excited tone of an arrogant voice. "Did you hear that?"

A feminine voice replies, "Yes, I did. It came from…over here."

Hearing the pounding footfalls coming my way, I make an attempt to pull my knife from my belt. And I almost immediately collapse back onto the ground as a result. I can't do it. I just can't do it.

The first hunter to break through the bushes into my little clearing beside the pond is an Elite. One I recognize as the girl from District 1. Her contemptuous features morph into feelings of utter shock at seeing me lying helpless in my weakened state. She has a bow, with an arrow already nocked, but she doesn't shoot it at me just yet.

Behind her enters another Elite. It's a boy and not Decius, so he's either from Districts 2 or 4. This arrogant hulk of a tribute crashes behind the District 1 girl with a spear at the ready and says to her impatiently, "What are you waiting for? Shoot!"

And the girl does. Right into the Elite boy's neck.

The boy dies almost instantly, his body toppling to the ground, the spear falling from his lifeless fingers, a red pack slipping away from him as well.

After the cannon fires, I echo the dead boy's unspoken question with my own weakly spoken words. "Why did you do that?"

The girl from District 1 just laughs. "Is that how you greet your sister?"

**Please, please take the time to review! They're what keep me motivated to write!**

**And please look at my new story In Her Honor!**


	7. Orientation

**Thanks to all who reviewed the last chapter! Here's chapter seven!**

**Any viewers of the TV show LOST out there reading this? If so, please check out my new fanfic for LOST, titled The Call Of Destiny.**

"You're…my sister?" I sputter out in disbelief.

The girl drops the dark black-colored pack on her back, bends down, and begins to rummage through it. While fiddling with the pack, she replies, "Well, half-sister actually."

She finds what she's looking for, which would be a vial of pills and a water canteen. She comes over to me still lying on the ground, pops two pills in my mouth, forces some water inside as well, and says, "Swallow."

I do. And after about a minute and a half, I'm feeling much better. The tossing and turning of stomach has abated for the most part.

But I still don't understand how this girl could be my half-sister. How is that humanly possible? How?

"You can't be my sister," I say out loud. "It just doesn't make sense. If you are, how come I never heard about you when I was growing up? There's no way. Just no way."

The girl from District One just shakes her head. Probably at what she feels is my level of stupidity. "We have the same father, idiot. Don't you see the resemblance?"

I do see the resemblance; the same green eyes and brown hair, thin cheekbones, both tall and lanky. That's what first struck me, back even when I was watching the District Lottery recaps on the train heading to the Capitol. Man, that seems so long ago. Like it happened in another life.

The same father…suddenly I remember Jaing's rant the previous night. Just about a day ago. Again, it seems like another life. A life free of pain. A life free of worry.

And then his spiteful words come flooding back to me:

"_But I'll tell you something I bet you didn't know about your old Dad. Did you know he ran off with my wife at one time? It was when your mother was pregnant with you, too."_

So that must mean… "Your mother was Jaing Katarn's wife at one time?"

The girl nods. "Yes. She raised me by herself. I never knew my father…your father."

That hurts. I had never thought of my dad to be one to be disloyal in the first place, or to leave someone behind. And then all of a sudden, I'm not too proud of my lineage.

Standing up from my crouching position beside the shallow pond, I look the girl in the eyes that look so much like mine. "But how did you come to be in District 1?"

"Because the Capitol is where my parents met, and then they ran off together to the closest District...District 1. Simple as that."

Makes sense. And just then, I realize something. I don't even know what this girl is called. "What's your name?"

The girl from 1 smiles. "Arrista," she answers readily.

"Arrista, why did you volunteer for the Hunger Games?"

Arrista doesn't answer my question. All she does is hand the dead boy's bright red pack to me, leaving his spear on the ground. "Here. See what he had in there. Are you any good with a spear?"

"Nope," I answer. So it seems that with neither of us saying it, we're teaming up. Becoming allies. I guess that's what family does, right? They stick together.

I zip open the pack, and peer in to see just what I've inherited. Not much. A water canteen, a pack of crackers, a plain silver knife, and a packet of iodine tablets for water purification. How fitting.

After filling up the canteen, sticking an iodine tablet in the canteen, swinging the backpack on, holstering the knife on my belt along with the other one, I turn to Arrista. "I'm ready. Where to?"

"We need to find a place to sleep for the night," she says. "The other four Elites will definitely be hunting through the night. Decius has a pair of night-vision glasses, so he'll definitely be trouble."

"So…why weren't you all hunting in one big posse?" I question as we begin to cautiously get a move on away from the pond.

Arrista smiles like I had just paid her a compliment. "Because of me. I manipulated Decius into letting us hunt in pairs. I said we would find more tributes that way. He didn't realize the good old-fashioned divide and conquer tactic."

So it seems that Decius has appointed himself leader of the Elites. Just the sort of thing his arrogant self would do.

And then I have another question. "So judging from the name…night-vision glasses let you see at night?"

From Arrista's scathing look, she's probably beginning to wonder if teaming up with me was a good idea after all. "Corran, I'm assuming your score of ten had nothing to do with your brainpower. Yes, they do, and I have a pair myself."

Reaching into her pack as we walk, she pulls out a pair of…sunglasses. Except apparently, they're for nighttime. She also pulls out something from her pack, and throws it to me.

It's only a flashlight, not night-vision glasses. Good to know I'm second-class in her book.

"You got all this stuff from that big golden horn back at the square?" I inquire.

"You mean the Cornucopia? Yes, after the huge bloodbath we had there, us Elites claimed everything. As me and Decius are the most skilled tributes in the arena, naturally we picked the best equipment."

So it seems my sister is an arrogant, stuck-up prick. But honestly with Jaing's onetime wife as a mother, what else could I possibly expect?

And besides, she did spare my life. I suppose I should be grateful for that.

"Got anything else in that pack of yours?" I ask.

Arrista nods. "A strip of beef, a spare canteen, and a pack of dried fruit. And I obviously have my bow and arrows. But enough questions. We have to find a place to stay."

"What did you have in mind?"

Arrista shrugs. "I guess a cave or something would be good. Or maybe some sort of concealment in tall grass. You see either one of those around?"

"No, I didn't," I reply. Then an idea hits me. A crazy idea. A wild idea. "How about we go to the town area of District 13?"

Arrista doesn't shoot down that notion right away. She inclines her head at me, just thinking. "You want to stay in town?"

"Yes," I say with a twinkle in my eyes.

Arrista's own green eyes ask the question for me.

When I tell her my reason, her inquisitive eyes then light up in ancitipation.

~/~/~/~/

From where we are, we set off in the direction of the town. "Don't turn on your light," Arrista says. "It will compromise our position. Just stick close to me."

So I do.

On we go, slinking stealthily in the darkness among the thick trees. Our feet do not crunch any leaves as we move, no motion causes any tree limbs to snap. We are like ghosts in the night. Live ghosts. And hopefully…both of us will stay that way.

But then again, there's another dilemma. Both of us can't win the Games. There can only be one.

I force that thought out of my head for the moment. It will do no good dwelling upon the inevitable. Besides, what are the chances that we will be the last two left alive?

The sparse pine trees begin to change back into the gentle oaks, a sign that we are coming nearer to the town of District 13. As we get painstakingly closer, my heart begins to beat faster in anxiety. What will we do when we actually reach the town's boundaries? Will I be able to even find what I'm looking for? I guess I'll just have to find out…

Just when we reach the town outskirts, Arrista turns to me suddenly. "Stop," she says. "I've got a plan to get us some food. Just trust me, ok?"

What else can I do? "Sure," I reply.

We move among the desolate houses, gliding through the shadows. As we move, I keep my eyes peeled for any sign of my quarry. No dice.

As we continue to move, I become aware of the muffled sound of voices ahead. I stop suddenly in order to be cautious. "Who's that?"

Arrista stops as well. We both move silently behind a large house, and with surprise, I notice we are quite near to the main District 13 square, with the golden horn in the middle. What did she call it…the Cornpee?

Arrista whispers back, "Those are the other four Elites. We promised to rendezvous back here, at the square. This is it. I'm going to get us some food from the supplies. Wait here."

"Wait, whoa," I stop her. "Don't they know that you're working with me now?"

"How would they? All they heard is a cannon. But when I come back alone, they'll know that the other boy from District 4 is gone. So I need to appear as if I was involved in a fight, and he was killed."

"So…what?" I murmur as low as I can.

Arrista turns slightly in order to face me. "Cut me."

"What?" I question in uncomprehension.

"I need to look injured from a battle. If I come back unscathed, they'll become suspicious. So cut me. Anywhere."

I hesitate. Is this really necessary? I'm supposed to purposefully harm my only sister, who I'm still not over the shock of meeting? And all of this happening in the span of hours?

Arrista picks up on my indecision. "Geez, Corran. Stop being such a pansy. Just do it. Do you really want to be starving the whole night?"

That, I do definitely not want to be. So slowly, unwillingly, I bring up one of my knives. And ever so slowly, I draw the knife across her outstretched arm. Across her neck. Her stomach. The other arm.

Arrista just stands there, still, unmoving. Her face remains stoic and uncomplaining as I continue to painfully mutilate her body. After I can bear to do no more, she glances down at herself approvingly. "Good enough," she evaluates.

Then without another word, she steps out from cover, and makes her way towards the Elites.

I just shake my head. How can she take that much pain, and not move a muscle to stop me? It's not like my cuts were that shallow. They were pretty deep.

But I have to hand it to her; Arrista is a pretty good actor. As I watch, the silhouette that I can see suddenly begins to walk slower, almost stumbling. As if she was really hurt. But actually, she is. Thanks to me…

The muffled voices of the Elites stop as they become aware of the approaching form. I can hear rustling sounds that signify weapons being readied.

"Who's there?" one of them calls.

Arrista raises her hands and bow in the air. "Arrista."

As Arrista gets closer to the encampment, the illumination of a torch confirms her identity to the Elites.

"What happened?" I recognize the curious voice of Decius say. Not a concerned voice. Merely curious.

"Yan is dead," Arrista tells them. "Get me the first aid supplies, will someone?"

I can't bear not having a visual picture. So I peek my head out from behind the house ever so slightly just to get a small idea of what's going on.

What I see is the...Cornapie...still standing in the middle of the square, only the difference from the start of the Games is, the supplies are not surrounding it anymore. The supplies are stacked in neat piles, arranged by type. A couple of posted torches give light to the small group.

And nearby the supplies are the Elites. They're all sprawled out lazily on the ground, relaxing, as if they have no fear. Not a care in the world.

As Arrista begins to treat her wounds, Decius questions her. "How did Yan die?"

Arrista doesn't even wince as she swabs her cuts with alcohol. "We were attacked by two tributes. One I recognized as that bastard from 12; he snuck up behind Yan in the dark and stabbed him with a knife."

Nice to know Arrista thinks I'm a bastard.

"What did you do?" asks another Elite.

"When I saw Yan go down, I turned around and quickly dealt District 12 a crushing blow to the head. It was too close-range to use my bow. But before I could kill him, a knife barely missed me. And then another. So instead of sticking around to get killed by an enemy that I couldn't see at all, I left. I got the hell out of there. But not before this unseen assailant hit me with knives about four times."

"You had no idea where the attacks were coming from?"

Arrista shakes her head. "No, the person or even multiple persons was too well concealed. I didn't want to try anything stupid, so I just got away from there."

I inhale sharply. Will they buy this story?

It seems that they do. As Arrista applies fresh bandages to her wounds, Decius asks, "You think the knife-thrower was the other tribute from 12? The twelve girl?"

"Probably," answers Arrista.

"I want her dead," says Decius angrily. "How dare she score higher than me!"

Man, he sounds like he's five years old…

Arrista gives a convincing evil smile. "I'm working on it," she responds.

Arrista finishes treating her injuries, and then heads over to the food pile. Grabbing a moderate array of fruit, she then proceeds to shove them in her pack. "I'm heading out again," she declares to the group. "This food will sustain me for a while. That 12 bitch is going down for what she did to me."

I see the Elite's heads bob in silent acknowledgement. No 'be careful'. No 'I'll come with you; you need backup. Just a nodding of the head.

Arrista walks away from the Elites at just the right pace, not wanting to seem too anxious. Once she joins me, I say to her in awe, "You are the most brazen con artist I've ever met."

Arrista and I continue to move away from the square, staying undercover this time. "I'll take that as a compliment," she answers.

~/~/~/~/

After searching in the dark for about a half hour, Arrista is growing impatient. "I don't think we're going to find it…" she whispers impatiently. "Why don't we just stay somewhere else?"

"No," I murmur back. "I think we're almost there."

"We better be…" Arrista replies, sulking.

After walking for about another few minutes, I stop abruptly. "What is it? Is something wrong?" Arrista questions.

Stepping in front of a modest house, one with peeling white paint, surrounded by colorful cobble stones, I say, "No."

"Then what is it?"

I move to enter the house. "We're home."

**A chapter with no real action...I apologize. It'll get better!**

**Once again, if you watch the TV show LOST, please check out my story for it, The Call Of Destiny!**


	8. Homecoming

**There's an author's notice at the end, but for now, let's just get on with the chapter! Read and review!**

**It's been awhile, so a quick list of characters and a little plot summary to get you caught up. If you remember it all, feel free to skip. **

_Corran Skirata- The main character, originally from District 13, from where he fled during the rebellion. His mother was killed in the bombing of District 13, while his father was a rebel leader who was captured and killed by the Capitol. Sixteen years old. Scored a ten before the Gamemakers. Was picked for the first Hunger Games as the male tribute of District 12._

_Selena Mellark- The female tribute of District 12. Sixteen years old. Professed to be weak at first, but then scored a twelve. Has made an alliance with Loque._

_Loque- The male tribute of District 5. He is twelve years old, small, and timid. Scored a six. Has allied with Selena._

_Jaing Katarn- Corran and Selena's mentor. Worked for the Capitol during the rebellion, tortured Corran's father to death. Understandably, he is not the kindest of mentors to Corran._

_Arrista- Born of Jaing's wife and Corran's father. This scandal is also partly why Jaing hates Corran so much. Female tribute of District 1. Scored a ten. She is Corran's half-sister, and has now allied with him in the Games._

_Decius- Male tribute of District 1. Corran's main rival. Scored a ten._

_Telleo- District 12 escort. Rather airheaded, though she bears no harm towards Corran._

_Casca/Cleia- stylists of Corran and Selena, respectively. Both are nice enough._

_Uncle Dane- Corran's uncle. Corran came to stay with him in District 12 after District 13 was bombed._

_Aden- Corran's cousin._

_Milla- Corran's closest friend back in District 12. Made the journey with him from District 13 to District 12._

_Emery- Male tribute of District 11. Scored a two._

_District 6 Girl- Scored an eight._

_The arena is a re-creation of pre-devastation District 13. Corran has just located his old home along with Arrista, and so here we go…_

Cautiously prodding open the old, wooden door, I take a small step forward.

I tread gingerly over the threshold of the entrance, as if I'm somehow forbidden to be inside of my own home. A certain aura of sanctity is imbued in the house; I feel almost disrespectful to be doing what I'm doing. But a part of me just can not resist the temptation.

As I enter, I close my eyes in anticipation and hold my breath. Will it look the same as my old house in the real District 13? Or has the Capitol simply made all of these houses exactly alike on the inside?

I can't stand it anymore. My eyes flutter slowly open, and I gasp in surprise.

I'm…home.

Before me is the exact same entrance hallway, boasting adjoining doors that lead off to different sections of the house. But what really catches my eye is the elaborate portrait at the far end of the hall.

It is a family photo. I see my mother, her kind, wise eyes smiling proudly upon me as she stands in the left-hand side of the photo. My father is situated on the far right, his weathered face serving to heighten his respectable image. Or at least it was respectable before I knew what I now know…

Pushing that thought out of my mind for the moment, I look at the final member of the picture, the figure standing directly in the center.

Me.

I remember this being taken about two years before the evacuation of District 13. My fair hair was still curly, my face still anxious with the troubles of youth. My wide smile simply puts the exclamation point on just how much I've changed since then.

I can find almost no reason in this bleak world to smile anymore.

Arrista picks this moment to poke me in the shoulder. I had completely forgotten that she was standing next to me. She points to my father. "That's him? My dad?"

I swallow a lump. "Yeah," I say. "That's our dad."

"You look just like him," she says softly.

The best I can manage is a nod, as I continue to gaze hungrily at this portrait as if it will disappear at any moment.

The rumbling of my stomach brings me back to reality. "Arrista, why don't you go check the kitchen for some food?"

"Sure," she agrees readily. "Where is it?"

"Second door on the left," I say automatically, as if I hadn't spent about a year away from home now.

A minute later, I hear her voice calling to me. "No food. Guess we couldn't get that lucky."

"Right then," I announce. Time to tear myself back to business. "We need to get some rest. The sun will be up soon; we still have a few hours of darkness in order to sleep."

I hear her voice again. "Sure. I'll take first watch, you go and lie down."

"No," I contradict. "I'll take first watch. Trust me, I'm not going to be able to sleep anytime soon. Besides, you need to heal up those cuts. Go on and sleep. Take my old bedroom; it's the room directly across from the kitchen."

So Arrista goes into my room, sets down her pack on the floor, and lies down on the bed with her bow and arrows directly within reach. I wait outside the room in the hallway, and before long, I hear the rhythmic sounds of breathing which indicate that she is asleep. I unsheathe one of my knives, and also out my flashlight. I am now officially ready for guard duty.

No matter how much I think about it, it still all seems so surreal. To be inside this very house brings back memories of my childhood. It all feels like an illusion, and I can almost believe that any moment now I'm going to wake up from an awful nightmare. That these Games don't really exist, that I will hear my mother's voice calling for me to wake up.

And then the practical part of me takes over, and I realize that I can't afford to be thinking careless thoughts. Anything less than my full concentration at this moment will only end up in my death.

But then I reflect of the long day: the rushed ride to the launching area, the initial shock at seeing District 13 again, seeing the blood of innocent children shed for no reason, the drinking impure water, the agony that followed, coming very close to death.

Most of all, I think about the amount of traveling that I've done. With this thought, my legs begin to feel sore. My eyelids begin to flutter. A strong sense of fatigue is now pervading my entire body. My hands begin to slack their grip on my weapons. My eyes are now fully closed, and...

A loud creak brings me back from my dreamless sleep. I sit up with a start, and crack my head on the wall which I am still sitting with my back to.

I curse to myself as I wince in pain. How could I have let myself fall asleep? It's a miracle I'm still breathing, that's all I can say.

And as I'm berating myself, the sound of another creak comes to my ears. And now I'm on edge, my heart beating very quickly.

Could someone have snuck in here while I was out?

Now instead of the warm, friendly aura that the house possessed earlier, I only feel a certain malevolence about the place. Every shadow seems darker than usual, around each corner a potential killer.

And the silence, the crushing silence that weighs on me more than any sound ever could. It is broken only by the occasional snuffling sounds of Arrista's breathing.

What to do? I can't wake her up, because this possible enemy would then be alerted to our presence if he or she is not already. Besides, if I distracted myself with that, I wouldn't be surprised to find a knife in my back.

Only one thing to do. I have to handle this situation myself.

So as stealthily as I can, I lift myself off of the floor, and head into the bathroom, at the far end of the hallway. I take a position behind the wall where the entrance to the room where Arrista is peacefully sleeping is visible.

And I wait.

And I don't have to wait long, as I am rewarded with the sight of a shadowy figure creeping along the hall, pausing briefly before each room.

It is all I can do to not shout out with shock. Surprise will be my only advantage right now.

And then the figure stops beside Arrista's room, and peeks inside. And enters the room.

Silent as a mouse, I follow, knife at the ready.

The startled sound comes from inside the room, "Arrista? What are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to-"

The voice ends, and the mouth that had been intoning it closes. The hand that had been holding a spear now lets it slide to the floor. And the body that had been standing over the bed poised to kill an innocent crumples to the floor with a knife in its neck.

From where I stand at the door, panting more from the adrenaline rush rather than the exertion of throwing a knife.

As one can imagine, Arrista is now wide awake, alert, and ready. "What just happened?"

I point to the corpse lying next to the bed. "That did."

Arrista rises, and takes a careful look at the dead girl, as do I. Even in death, she still possesses a certain sense of poise about her. She is about my age, with dark black hair. Her deep blue eyes stare at me accusingly, unrelenting. I end the fitful torture by mercifully slowly closing them forever.

"You know her?" I ask of Arrista.

She nods. "Yes, she was a fellow Elite. Charla. From District 4."

Charla. A name has been put to those haunting blue eyes.

Another sound from outside of the house makes us both jolt. We regard each other silently, and then without a word, gather up our packs and weapons, and head to the exit of this house. We don't even stop to case the perimeter of the house to make sure nobody is lurking outside. I, for one, just want out of this place. My old home, once a place of safety and comfort, has now become a sinister dwelling of misfortune where blood has been shed.

As we head out the front door in the breaking dawn, we see a small figure that had been crouched across the street abruptly stand up. The person appears to have been watching the house for some time now. I can tell it is a male. As I note this in my subconscious, I see his mouth open, and his hand reach inside his light tunic. This is enough provocation for Arrista.

"Corran-"

That's all the boy standing across the street gets out, as Arrista's arrow drives into the very center of his chest. The boy looks down in shock at the object protruding from his torso, and then collapses to the ground, writhing in pain.

I run to the boy, because I had recognized that voice. And I now know that Arrista has just made a horrible mistake.

The boy is Loque.

And as I reach Loque, he ceases his twitching on the ground. He smiles a sad smile laced with incredible pain briefly at me. Then the corners of his mouth turn downwards, his eyes glaze over, and I know that he has departed this life forever.

I lift my head to the sky and let out a purely animalistic howl. Why? Why did Loque have to die?

I turn around and fix Arrista with an icy glare. "You-"

I break off. I can't even think of what to say to her. What has just transpired here has shut down my brain, to the point where nothing else matters.

All of sudden, Arrista loads another arrow into her bow and points it in my direction.

A thought penetrates the fog surrounding my brain. Has Arrista gone crazy? Or is she betraying me?

And then suddenly, I can't get any air into my lungs as someone grabs me from behind with an iron grip and begins to put pressure on my throat.

I swear silently. My attacker must have crept from the house behind me, catching me while I was distracted in my grieving for Loque.

Holding a knife to my throat now, my assailant coldly calls to Arrista, "Drop the bow, or he dies."

My knees buckle underneath me, because just as I knew Loque's voice, this one is also familiar.

The person threatening to kill me is my fellow tribute from 12, Selena Mellark.

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	9. Collision

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Does Arrista heed Selena's command to drop her bow?

Of course not.

Instead, she adjusts her aim, presumably to land a killing shot to Selena's head. Which will be difficult, because I am being used as an unwilling human shield.

I try and break free from Selena's hold in her momentary distraction. My attempt is an utter failure, as she immediately cuts off my air supply by squeezing my neck, and I'm left gasping for air. Guess it's all up to Arrista.

In response to Arrista's hostility, Selena only digs her knife deeper into my neck, making a tiny incision that draws small rivulets of bright-red blood. "I'm not bluffing," she calls to Arrista. "He will die."

Arrista just gives this evil, wicked smile that sends chills down my back. "If you were going to kill him, you would have done it already."

No response from Selena.

The sound of Loque's death cannon firing momentarily jolts all three of us and ends the standoff. As Selena slackens her hold on me, I tuck and roll to the right, leaving a clear shot for Arrista.

And she doesn't disappoint. Her arrow flies directly into Selena's left shoulder, the arm that was holding the knife. As the knife falls to the ground, Selena also falls to her knees, her eyes swelling with tears. Not tears of sorrow, but tears of pain.

Arrista casually walks forward, as if we were the only ones left in the arena. She pauses to stand directly in front of Selena's kneeling form. She then nocks an arrow, and points it directly at the helpless Selena's head.

"No!" I cry. I grab Selena's knife from off of the ground, and dash over to where Arrista and Selena are. Standing right behind Arrista, I hold the knife to her neck, echoing exactly how Selena was just threatening my life.

"You kill her, I kill you," I blurt out to Arrista.

The words are out of my mouth before I can even process them. Did I really just threaten to stab one of my own family? All to save somebody who had just been holding the very same knife to my neck? Somebody who had unnerved me even before the Games with her top score of a 12, someone who I personally had been watching out for?

Yes, I just did.

I hear Arrista's laugh come, even though I can't see her face. "So you do have some spunk, Corran. I was beginning to wonder."

Arrista raises her bow in the air as if to signal surrender, and moves away from Selena. I also lower my weapon, as Arrista says, "But if I were you, I wouldn't do that again, _brother_."

Whatever. At the moment, I'm more concerned with Selena's health.

With her good arm, she points at Loque's dead body. More specifically, at the pack he…it is wearing on the back.

"Get…supplies…pack…sent…Jaing," she gasps out.

Jaing must have sent her some first-aid supplies in case she ever got hurt. Biting back my angry retort, I do as she says, hurrying over to Loque.

I gently ease the pack away from his limp shoulders, cringing with disgust and remorse at the same time. Zipping it open, I find a sophisticated, well-stocked, first aid kit. It includes a simple syringe filled to the brim with some clear liquid, bandages, pain reliever pills, and alcohol swabs.

Good to know somebody has sponsors in this arena…

I stand there, unsure what to do. I know the arrow has to come out of the shoulder. But then what?

Selena breaks out of her agony for a moment to answer my unspoken question for me. "Inject…shoulder…syringe."

Clear enough. So I head to Selena, and grasp the arrow protruding from her shoulder with both hands. "Ready?" I ask her.

She just manages a nod.

Steeling myself to not look at her face for what I'm about to do, I make ready to pull out the arrow.

"One, two-" I pull.

"AHHHHHHHHHHH!" comes the bloodcurdling scream.

I do my best to ignore the blood flowing forth from the wound, and quickly insert the syringe into the wounded shoulder, as close to the laceration as I can. I depress the plunger of the syringe, watch the unfamiliar liquid slowly run out of it and into Selena's body, and then wait.

Will this really work?

At first, nothing seems to happen. Then slowly, the flow of blood streaming from Selena's shoulder gradually decreases, until there is little more than a trickle coming out. This is my cue to swab the wound with alcohol, and stick a bandage over it.

Throughout that time, I had been afraid to look Selena in the eye; I was afraid of what her facial expression might be. Now I steel myself to look. She looks much improved, that's for sure.

"Here," I say. I hold out some pain reliever pills to her. "Take these."

She does so, sucking them down without even using water.

I had also been keeping an eye on Arrista throughout that process, knife at the ready in case she tried anything funny. I think she knew it too, because all she did was case the perimeter with her bow.

"Are you ready to travel?" I ask Selena.

"Travel?" questions Arrista. She has a steely, haughty look in her eye. "She's coming with us? She just tried to kill you!"

"Only because you killed my ally," retorts Selena. "A young boy who never even threatened you. You shot first, and asked questions later. And an innocent is dead because of it."

This makes Arrista pause for a second. But still not wanting to back down, she comes back with, "How was I supposed to know?"

Trying to break up the verbal battle, I interject, "I guess you weren't. Just next time, think before you shoot. And yes, Selena is coming with us. She got a twelve for her score. She can't be entirely useless, right?"

I think that by putting Selena's value in practical terms is the ticket to get Arrista to consent to her coming along. And it seems to work.

"Fine," Arrista grudgingly agrees. She then addresses Selena, "What's your primary weapon, anyway?"

"A whip," Selena answers.

Arrista laughs mockingly. "A whip?" she taunts.

"A spiked whip, actually," Selena says. "You might have heard in history lessons about the cat o nine tails whip? Well, the whip that I specialize in is exactly the same- only with metal spikes on the end of each 'tail'.

Selena takes out the weapon she is talking about from her belt in order to let us look at it, and when she does, I cringe at the thought of how potentially deadly this whip can be.

This is a whip made of leather that has about seven tails on the end in order to lash out with. But instead of the leather on these tails, each end has a sharp spike attached to it. One lash from these spikes can bring a fatal injury to anyone if they are unfortunate enough to be hit with it.

From the look on her face, Arrista has also processed this information. "Can you even use it now with your shoulder injury?"

"You hit me in my right shoulder, so it's a good thing I'm a lefty," Selena snaps.

"So maybe you're not totally useless," Arrista says arrogantly. "Come on then. Let's go find someplace safe."

"To the woods?" Selena asks.

I nod. "To the woods."

Selena grabs the pack that still has some bandages, swabs, and pills in it, and stows her whip back on her belt. I give her back her knife, leaving the remaining three for myself. Arrista retains hold on her bow and arrows.

We divvy up the remaining supplies between our packs- I keep the pack of crackers, my canteen, the flashlight, a third of the fruit that Arrista lifted from the Cornucopia, and a third of the water purification tablets. Arrista claims a strip of beef, her canteen, the night-vision glasses, another third of fruit, and another third of iodine tablets. Selena takes possession of the pack of dried fruit, and the last third of fruit and purification tablets.

"You have any water?" I ask Selena.

She shakes her head. "I have a canteen, but no, no water."

"Then we should eat some fruit right now- the moisture will sustain us for awhile until we find some more," I suggest.

And once that is done, we finally hoist our packs onto our shoulders and head off away from this town. Arrista takes the lead, Selena steps in the middle, and I bring up the rear.

Good riddance, District 13.

As we hike, I make an attempt to tally up who is left in my mind. Since the last anthem, three have died- Yan, the Elite who Arrista killed while I was incapacitated at the pond. Geez, that seems like a lifetime ago.

Charla, the blue-eyed Elite from 4 who I took out with a knife as she attempted to kill Arrista in her sleep. I quickly force that particular one out of my mind before it troubles me too deeply.

And Loque, the little boy from District 5. The one who had tried to teach me about climbing back in training, the one who I swore I would never come after in the arena. Turns out that I ended up getting him killed indirectly by making the decision to head to the town of District 13 anyway. I guess I did break my promise after all…

But if my count is correct, that makes fifteen dead so far. Which means there are only nine tributes left in the arena. Eight more standing in my way before I can return to District 12.

But who exactly is left?

Me, Arrista, and Selena are together. Decius and the other two remaining Elites are also working with each other. That means that Emery from District 11, the volunteer District 6 girl, and the female from District 3 are the only other ones in the arena.

But my thoughts keep coming back to Charla. Particularly, why can't I get her out of my head.

Then I realize…she was my first kill.

Somewhere, her family is weeping for her. Her friends call for my death. Her icy eyes seem to follow me wherever I walk, never relenting, always staring.

But then I think of Loque's still body and I'm able to banish Charla from my mind. At least, for now.

Before long after leaving the town, we come to a field of tall grass. Each stalk is about ten feet high, so it will offer plenty of concealment. After we are well inside the field, Selena says to both me and Arrista, "Since I probably got the most rest out of all of us, I'll take watch right now if you two want to sleep."

I've gotten maybe…an hour of sleep so far in the arena? Arrista has most likely gotten maybe a couple of hours more than that. "Fine by me," I say. Arrista also nods in assent.

So using my pack for a pillow, I lie down on the soft grass and try to make myself comfortable. Arrista does the same a few feet away from me, while Selena stands guard over both of us. And before I know it, I am fast asleep.

~/~/~/~/

I wake up to the blaring sound of trumpets, and the signs of night fast approaching. When I open my eyes, nothing seems to have changed. Arrista is still in her sleeping position, and Selena is still keeping watch. The only difference would be the faces that are now appearing in the sky.

The first to appear is Yan, the tribute from the pond. He turns out to have been from District 2.

Next up is Charla and her accusing face. Enough time spent dwelling on her.

And last for tonight is Loque. For the last time, I scan his face, trying to commit every detail to memory before his face disappears forever. And when it does disappear, I am left with a feeling of great regret. Regret for the boy that I never really knew. _Goodbye, Loque._

After the sounds have faded away, I inquire of Selena, "We slept that long?"

"I guess you were tired," she replies with a twinkle in her eyes.

"I can keep watch now if you want to continue to get rest," Arrista says to both of us.

Selena and I agree, and after eating a bit of fruit out of our packs, we all revert to the same positions as before, though it is now Arrista standing and Selena the one lying a few feet away. And though I have slept much today, I could still use a bit more rest. It does take a bit longer, but I do eventually fall into oblivion.

~/~/~/~/

This time, I am awakened not by the rude cacophony of trumpets, but by the sound of hushed voices. When I open my eyes, I see that Selena is still sleeping beside me, but Arrista is nowhere to be found.

Then I hear, "You said they were here?"

My stomach falls as I recognize the voice of Decius.

And the sinking feeling in my stomach is accompanied by a fiery rage as I hear, "Yes, they're right around here somewhere. They should still be asleep, so we should have no problems. I'm sure going to enjoy this…"

The unthinkable has happened. Well, I guess it never really was unthinkable.

Arrista, my own sister, has betrayed me.

**Good news- I have a new chapter of From The Other Side finished, all I have to do is proofread. Expect an update on that very, very soon!**

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	10. The Truth

**Thanks to all who reviewed the last chapter, here's chapter 10! Sorry it took awhile, but please read and review!**

I roughly shake Selena's shoulder. "Get up!" I hiss at her.

Selena's eyes flare open, and she makes as if to open her mouth and ask me a question, but I quickly clamp my hand over her mouth. "We must be gone from here," I whisper.

Her blue eyes continue to stare at me, uncomprehending. Like I'm speaking a foreign language. "Now!" I implore.

And silently as possible, I get up, and tread carefully away, deeper into the grassy field we had stayed in for the better part of a day. Without looking behind me, I can tell that Selena is following close behind, her whip out and ready. I also have two knives unsheathed and ready for action.

And we have not been away for ten seconds when I can hear the plodding footfalls of the Elites trampling the brush in our sleeping area. "They're not here," comes an unfamiliar voice.

"So where are they?" sounds another as-of-yet unknown tribute.

So Decius and Arrista must have their two other fellows with them. Just our luck.

And then a strange feeling of numbness pervades me as I hear Arrista's voice again. "They have to be around here, somewhere close by. The ground here is greatly disturbed; it appears they left in a hurry."

This pronouncement doesn't even surprise me. What does is that I'm not even feeling anger towards Arrista. That emotion has now faded. It was been replaced with just a deadening feeling of puzzlement and confusion. My biggest question?

Why.

Why would she betray me? What would she stand to gain from it?

Or I just the better question is, how could she? How could she betray her own family?

Easily enough, it seems.

And as Selena and I continue to put as much distance between ourselves and the Elites as we can without making a sound, we both hear it. "Coooooooooran!"

"Cooooooooran!" again comes the sound. As if the pain of her betrayal wasn't enough, Arrista now has to rub salt in the wounds. I can see how she takes from Jaing.

"Spread out; split up. If you see them, give a shout," orders Decius. And the other three Elites proceed to follow his direction.

"We have to stick together," I whisper to Selena. "Our best chance is to stay silent and try to slip out of this field undetected. Let's avoid any confrontation. Four on two is not good odds."

"Got it," Selena whispers back.

And then when Selena falls silent, it seems that everything else does as well. The setting is just so surreal; it seems like something that one would be watching on a television program that actually experiencing.

The eerie, whistling wind, the surrounding ten-foot high grass stalks swaying slightly because of the breeze. The half-moon high in the sky, the inky blackness of night. And lastly, the chilling silence that presses down upon me, threatening to suffocate my entire being.

The whole setting might actually be beautiful, if I could actually pause to think about it. I mean, if I first forgot the fact that four deadly killers were out here in this vast field with me.

And then a certain tribute begins to call out in the night, one who apparently has no fear of revealing her general location:

Arrista.

"I know you can hear me, Corran. And while I have your attention, I'd just like to tell you a few things that you ought to know." Her tone is taunting, mocking me. As if she has no respect at all for me.

"Do you remember when you asked me why I volunteered for the games? And I never answered?"

Yes, I do. A little over a day ago, on the very first day of the Games. A lifetime ago.

"I volunteered for the Hunger Games for the sole purpose of killing a certain someone who I knew would be a competitor in the Games. Can you guess who that person is?"

I have a feeling that I'm about to find out…

"You, Corran. I volunteered to kill _you_."

Beside me, Selena lets out a quiet gasp of surprise and horror. While I don't visibly react, I clench my teeth and harden the muscles in my face, trying to keep my mouth shout. If I make a single sound, the four Elites will hone right in on our position in this vast field.

Arrista continues, "You may be wondering, why I didn't just kill you before, when we were all alone? I certainly had plenty of opportunities. The answer is, I wanted to publicly humiliate you. It would be no fun to simply kill you in your sleep, without you knowing why. I want to actually _see_ the pain of betrayal and hurt in your eyes before I eliminated from this world forever. I want you to suffer. And so you shall."

That rocks me. I had no idea that she hated me this much. She put her own life in jeopardy just to take away mine? And she not only wants to kill me, she wants to kill me slowly, taking her own sweet time, making sure I feel the maximum amount of pain possible.

Buy why? Exactly why does she hate me so much?

"You may ask, Corran, why do I want you dead so much? To settle the score for my mother."

Arrista speaks yet again, "When I was fifteen years old, I returned home from school one day to find my mother lying dead in the kitchen, victim of a broken neck. It was no accident; the Capitol authorities ruled it to be a homicide. The police never caught the son-of-a-bitch who did it. You know why?"

I stop moving now, drawing Selena to a halt as well. Every muscle in my body is tense, on edge, waiting for Arrista's next words. Thought I know I should be hightailing it out of here, something, some force is compelling to stay, to hear Arrista out. I just have to know what she's going to say next.

"They never caught the killer because it was your father. They never caught him because by the time the police discovered that it was in fact him, he had already resigned his post as a Capitol military advisor and defected back to District 13, where he began the process of fermenting a rebellion. He was safe…for the moment."

My knees buckle. I have to hastily reach out and grab Selena's shoulder to steady myself. What Arrista is saying is just too much for my mind to comprehend right now. No person should have to deal with this many bombshells at once.

But yet, it seems that she is still not finished. It seems that this demon-cobra still has more venom to spit in my direction.

Arrista's voice comes again, "After my mother died, I was taken in by the man that I had never met before in my whole life. My mother's one-time husband. Jaing Katarn. He told me everything. _Everything_. And so I made a vow to kill your father and his entire family. Jaing took care of your father…my father as well. I took care of your mother. And now only one more Skirata is left to dispose of. You."

So Arrista's 'sunny disposition' must come from all that time spent with Jaing. Big surprise. But one thing she has just said is something that I don't understand. She 'took care' of my mother?

The heart-wrenching memories of that awful television broadcast showing District 13 being bombarded come flooding back. My mother was killed then, at the same time District 13 ceased to exist. So how…?

From the way things have been going, I'd say Arrista is about to answer my unspoken question.

And she does.

"You know that we Elites were once warriors of the Districts. As some people from the Capitol defected to the side of the Districts, we too went over to the Capitol's camp. We knew that ultimately, the Capitol would be victorious. And so I did play an integral part in the short war between the thirteen Districts and Capitol."

The climax, the key revelation is about to come. I can feel it; it's right at the door, turning the key, and pushing it open ever so slowly.

"My assignment under the Capitol put me in the cockpit of a fighter jet. One equipped with deadly atomic bombs. And so that was how I found myself flying over your precious District 13 on the day of its death.

"So yes, Corran, one could say that I did kill your mother. And now I'm about to kill you."

That does it. I snap. The words come from nowhere, rising from deep within me, spewing violently out of my mouth, "No, _I'm_ going to kill you, you heartless-"

"To the right!" another voice interrupts me. Decius. "It's coming from the right, that way!"

Beside me, Selena curses violently. "Sorry," I whisper. Even as angry as I am, it's just not fair for Selena to be dragged into this mess with me.

"It's fine," she murmurs back. "I couldn't have stayed silent for as long as you did anyway."

No sense in being sneaky and discreet now, so the two of us break into a sprint. On we run, the stalks of grass impeding our progress all the way. We run faster, our surroundings whipping past us ever so quickly. I can hear excited shouts in the background as the Elites are in hot pursuit and then-

I trip over my own two feet.

I crash down, skidding into the ground, lost amid the sea of grassy stalks. Fortunately, Selena notices my predicament, and heads back to help me up.

And that's when we notice that everything has gone quiet again. No enthused shouts of joy from the Elites, and no sounds of footfalls. Silence has fallen again. Dead silence.

I stand up and brush the grass off of me. Selena and I are about to begin making our way out of the field again and then-

"Down!" Selena shrieks.

I duck, and feel a blade whistle through the air where my head just was. As I tuck and roll to my left, I hear another whistle, and then comes a piercing howl of pain. And what I see when I do stand up is a truly gruesome sight.

Selena has just gouged out the District 2 girl's eye out with her metal-spiked whip.

I quickly put the unfortunate girl out of her misery with a knife to the temple. And as the cannon sounds, Selena and I hightail it out of that field. No sense in any more subtlety.

We finally break out of the grassy stalks, enter the main forest, and continue to sprint as fast as we can. The shouts of the Elites fade away as we make good time getting the hell away from there. From what I can tell, it is about early morning. The sun is now just making its way up the horizon, casting a beautiful light on what has been a hellish day thus far.

Then after about fifteen minutes of non-stop running, Selena finally calls a halt.

"Stop," she says.

I personally want to get as far away from the Elites as possible. Is Selena really that tired?

"Listen," she says.

I do, and for a minute or so, I hear nothing. Then I faintly pick up the sounds of rushing water.

"A stream!" I exclaim.

Selena leads me through the trees to the source of the sound. As the welcome sight of water greets us, we both break out our canteens and fill them to the brim. Fortunately, this stream is a freshwater stream; there is no need to use our iodine tablets.

While we indulge ourselves with the sweet, pure water, we also break out a few pieces of fruit to munch on. I am now feeling quite refreshed after a very trying and grueling morning. Trying and grueling not only in the physical sense, but also in emotional terms.

I have been given information that is very hard to cope with right now. Information about my father being a cold-blooded murderer. And when I think about that, I actually feel a little stirring of pity for Arrista. I have no idea how I would react if one of my parents had killed the other.

Something else hard to comprehend is Arrista volunteering for the sole reason of killing me. How would she know that I would be entered in the Games anyway? I guess that's a question for another time.

Lastly, the revelation that Arrista was operating a bomber jet that helped to obliterate District 13. She helped cause the destruction that killed my mother. She will pay for that, I privately vow.

But in Arrista's own words, two thirds of the Skirata family have already been 'taken care of'.

I just have to make sure that I don't end up the same way.

Seemingly picking up on my cloudy mood at the moment, Selena interrupts my thoughts with a positive notion. "Well, we did take out one of them. It's only two on three now."

"True," I reply. "We're down to eight now."

"The Elite eight," Selena halfheartedly wisecracks.

"Not funny," I answer sourly.

As we pack up the supplies, Selena turns to me. "Where to?" she asks.

"Doesn't matter," I say. Then I am now the one who is picking up on things in the distance. "You hear that?"

"What?"

"That rumbling noise," I say slowly. "I have no idea what that could be though."

The sound of rumbling and crashing gets louder. From the wide-eyed expression on Selena's face she now hears it too.

The sound is almost deafening right now. And I'm still in the dark on what is happening until-

A massive fissure appears in the ground right next to me, and a wide chasm opens up to my right. Selena and I quickly jump to the left, away from the yawning hole in the earth that is certain death if one were to fall.

I now know what's occurring.

Earthquake.

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	11. Ordeal

**It's been awhile, so a quick list of characters and a little plot summary to get you caught up. If you remember it all, feel free to skip. **

_Corran Skirata- The main character, originally from District 13, from where he fled during the rebellion. His mother was killed in the bombing of District 13, while his father was a rebel leader who was captured and killed by the Capitol. Sixteen years old. Scored a ten before the Gamemakers. Was picked for the first Hunger Games as the male tribute of District 12._

_Selena Mellark- The female tribute of District 12. Sixteen years old. Professed to be weak at first, but then scored a twelve. Has made an alliance with Loque, and now Corran._

_Loque- The male tribute of District 5. He is twelve years old, small, and timid. Scored a six. Has allied with Selena. Died at Arrista's hands._

_Jaing Katarn- Corran and Selena's mentor. Worked for the Capitol during the rebellion, tortured Corran's father to death. Understandably, he is not the kindest of mentors to Corran._

_Arrista- Born of Jaing's wife and Corran's father. This scandal is also partly why Jaing hates Corran so much. Female tribute of District 1. Scored a ten. She is Corran's half-sister, and allied with him in the Games, only to turn on him later. She flew a fighter jet that dropped nuclear bombs on District 13._

_Decius- Male tribute of District 1. Corran's main rival. Scored a ten._

_Telleo- District 12 escort. Rather airheaded, though she bears no harm towards Corran._

_Casca/Cleia- stylists of Corran and Selena, respectively. _

_Uncle Dane- Corran's uncle. Corran came to stay with him in District 12 after District 13 was bombed._

_Aden- Corran's cousin._

_Milla- Corran's closest friend back in District 12. Made the journey with him from District 13 to District 12._

_Emery- Male tribute of District 11. Scored a two._

_District 6 Girl- Scored an eight._

_The arena is a re-creation of pre-devastation District 13. Corran has just escaped from Arrista and Decius, formed a new alliance with Selena, an earthquake has just begun to rock the arena. And so here we go..._

"Run!" I yell.

Selena and I scramble to get everything together, and begin to sprint away from the newly-formed fissure in the earth. Deeper into the woods we run, jumping over fallen branches, hopping other such debris. But dodging the natural obstacles of the forest is not our only concern.

Every few seconds, a new crack would appear in the earth's surface, and we'd have to choose a new direction to run in. Not to mention the loud, distracting sound of crashing, rumbling, as the earth split itself apart causing heavy tree branches and rocks to rain down on us from above. In these hazardous conditions, it is not hard to tell will happen next.

As we ran, a new fissure appears right next to Selena's foot. She stumbles, teetering, tottering and tip-toeing to maintain her balance in order not to fall into the inky blackness that has just appeared in the surface. Reflexively, I grab her by the waist and pull her back from the yawning chasm. But even that action of mine can not prevent what happens next.

A heavy branch, dislodged from its tree trunk rockets down seemingly from nowhere to strike Selena a crushing blow to the temple. She crumples instantly in my arms, blood suddenly flowing from her wound onto my clothes.

"Selena!" I shout. I pause temporarily in order to evaluate her condition. "Selena, can you hear me?"

It's to no avail. Her head is lolling back and forth, her mouth open, her body limp, an unrelenting stream of blood still pouring from the cut on her head.

I grit my teeth against it all, and simply let instinct take over. I lay Selena down on the ground, and lean over her to offer some meager protection against the falling objects. Keeping an eye out for any new fissures forming in the earth, I quickly strip off my shirt and tie a knot around her wound. Not tight enough to cause any blood circulation damage, but enough so that the blood should be staunched for the moment.

I grimace privately. It seems that one of the skills I thought most useless at the beginning, knot-tying, has just possibly become the difference between life and death for Selena.

I quickly shake that thought away. We're not out of this yet.

When I am done tending to the wound, I stand over Selena's unconscious form, and for a moment, the falling branches and rocks seem to fade away into the background. Time appears to slow down as I gaze upon her prostrate body.

_Leave her._

The words come from nowhere and yet from everywhere as I continue to struggle with my decision.

_She'll only slow you down. You'll get yourself killed trying to carry her now, and who knows? She may even turn on you later, just like Arrista did._

"No!" I exclaim aloud. Moving fast now, I bend down and scoop Selena into my arms. She weighs less than I thought she would; another toll of the Hunger Games, I suppose. I hoist her over my shoulder, pack and all, and quickly arrange our position so that I have the best maneuverability. Clearing my head to dispel the inappropriate thoughts that understandably arise in my mind, I make my best effort to focus on the task at hand.

Staying alive.

_Suit yourself. Get yourself killed._

I will suit myself. Because I am not so cruel as to leave an innocent behind to suffer certain death. I would prefer to die rather than commit such an unspeakable crime.

With, I once more dart forward on my flight to safety. But I pull up short as I come across something that I somehow never expected to see again.

Another tribute.

This one is unfamiliar, a small girl whose name I do not know. Quickly running through my mental tally, I realize that this must the female from District 3. She must have kept to herself throughout this time in the arena, afraid of the Elites and other such predators. The earthquake must have finally forced her to reveal herself.

Her reaction to the sight of me confirms my thought process. Her eyes go wide, and her face fills with an expression of raw, pure fear. "Please," she whimpers. "Don't hurt me."

I'd have raised my hands in order to show I mean no harm, but that is impossible at the moment with Selena on my back. Instead, I put all the reassurance I can gather into my voice as I tell the girl, "There's no need to worry. I'm not going to harm you."

From the way she looks at me, I can tell something about how I said this got through to her. Her expression of fear softens as I hold her regard. "You don't look like the killer type anyway," she says.

If only she knew…

An earsplitting crash brings us both back to our senses. The girl gives me a brief smile and turns to spring away in the opposite direction.

"Wait!" I call.

She looks back for an instant, wondering why I would even say anything to her, a complete stranger. In this type of mistrustful environment. And I'm wondering as well. I don't know where the words come from, but come they do.

"You want to come with us?"

Her initial reaction is one that suggests I've lost my mind. In her position, I would be inclined to agree. Then, her features change into contemplation as she carefully considers the idea.

"Sure," she agrees at last. "You look strong. It'd be nice to have a protector."

"Let's get moving then," I declare. As we start to make our way from the forest, running about two feet away from each other, I continue, "My name is Corran."

The girl from District 3 responds politely, "Nice to meet you Corran. I'm-"

Her name is lost as the ground suddenly drops out from under her, and she begins to plummet into an endless abyss. Her reflexes are lightning fast, however, and she does manage to catch hold of a nearby tree's branch. Though from the looks of it, the branch is about to break any second.

Her eyes are lit up with terror as she screams, "Corran!"

"Coming!" I shout back.

I hastily find a spot to set Selena down underneath a tree that will offer some shelter and dash back over to where the District 3 girl's life is hanging in the balance. Literally.

And not a moment too soon, as the branch she had been clutching for dear life snaps off of its home tree. The girl lets out a bloodcurdling scream as she begins to free-fall, one that ends quickly as I grab her right hand with my own.

And there we are. Me, still shirtless because there had been no time to retrieve my jacket from my pack. I am leaning down on all fours, with my right hand clasped tightly with this terrified young girl's hand, the only thing keeping her from certain death. My left hand is the stabilizing force that is keeping me anchored on the ground, keeping me from sliding over the edge as well.

"Don't you let go!" the girl pleads.

I swallow. "I won't. I promise," I answer as calmly as I can.

An uncomfortable pause.

"Can you pull yourself up?" I ask her.

She tries. She really does. But I can see from the effort she is expending to hoist herself up that its all for naught. She simply isn't strong enough to pull herself up from her predicament.

Trying not to let my panic show, I try and come up with possible solutions to save this girl. But my mind comes up blank. It's all I can do just to hold on.

And then I am given something else to deal with. The area where I thought I had so intelligently placed Selena is now showing signs of cracks appearing. It seems that fissures are appearing in a direct circle around her prone form, offering a direct conclusion for what will happen next.

Selena will be the next to fall to an unpleasant death. And from the looks of those fissures, it will happen soon. Within seconds.

I look back at the District 3 girl. I turn my attention back to Selena. And one more time to the little girl.

And I make up my mind.

I hold eye contact with the girl dangling below me, and then turn my stare to the ground. My cheeks flush red with shame with what thoughts are going through my mind.

The girl must sense that something is up. "Corran? What are you doing?"

The two simple words come, my voice cracking on the second one. "I'm sorry."

I let go.

The tribute from District 3 falls away into the chasm, her last word not one of hate, bitterness, or even sorrow. Just one of puzzlement.

"Why?"

That broke my heart. All she wanted to know was why.

And what had my own words been, merely minutes ago?

"I am not so cruel as to leave an innocent behind to suffer certain death. I would prefer to die rather than commit such an unspeakable crime."

Obviously, I don't know myself as well as I had thought.

Forcing this whole unpleasantness to the back of mind for the short-term, I hurry back over to Selena, pick her up again, and rush out of the area where the fissures were beginning to appear. And not a minute too soon, for as soon as I was clear, the ground collapsed where I had just been.

And then something happened which I certainly did not see coming.

The earthquake ended.

I stopped running briefly, just to make sure that yes indeed, the rumbling of the ground had ceased. That debris had stopped falling. That holes had stopped forming in the earth, placing those around in extreme peril.

And yes. The earthquake was most definitely over. A few minutes of a natural act that is a synonym for unbearable torture. But why did it even occur?

From behind me, I hear a series of muffled groans and noises. I tense up, my hand immediately straying to my sheathed knives, but I stop when I realize that it's just Selena, waking up from her coma.

I halt, and gently put her down. The first thing that she does after groggily opening her eyes and getting a feel for her surroundings is give me a look that is somewhere between appraising and coy. "You work out a lot, don't you Corran?"

"Uh…" I stammer. Turning my back to hide my blush, I root around in my pack to the find my jacket in order to cover the still-naked top half of my body.

I also locate my water canteen and give it to Selena. "Here. Drink."

She complies, and while she is greedily quenching her thirst, I ask her, "How are you feeling?"

"I don't think I'll be sprinting anytime soon," Selena replies. She dabs a bit of water of her hand, unwraps my makeshift bandage, and applies the water to her wound. She almost immediately lets out a gasp of pain and winces involuntarily.

"Here, let me," I say. I kneel down next to her and sponge the non-bloodied section of my shirt with fresh water, and then wipe the part of her wound that is still bleeding.

As I am doing so, our eyes meet for a fraction of a second. Something passes between us, something that scares and excites me at the same time. Then I have to avert my gaze, for fear of saying something that would make me look like an idiot.

"All better," I announce, trying to appear professional. I stow away my understandably revolting shirt in an obscure pocket of my pack, not wanting to contaminate the rest of my supplies. Maybe I'll get around to washing it. Maybe. "Well, at least the wound is clean."

"Thank you," Selena remarks graciously. She then fixes me with a wry look. "So, are you over the fact that I got a twelve for my score yet?"

"Ask me again later," I answer, equally wry. "But let me ask you something. What caused that earthquake?"

"The Gamemakers," she answers. "As if watching us fight and kill each other is not enough, the Gamemakers are obliged to periodically provide entertainment for the lovely Capitol citizens." As one could easily be able to tell, the last three words of her statement were absolutely dripping with sarcasm.

"It just suddenly…stopped," I say.

"Probably because someone died," Selena muses. "That would fulfill the requirements for the Capitol."

I just nod in assent, not trusting myself to speak. Later, I would tell her. Later, I would dwell upon my second kill.

But not now.

"But what I can't believe," Selena continues, "Is how we made it out of there alive. How did you manage to rescue the both of us, especially when I was unconscious?"

"Uh…" I stutter for the second time in as many minutes. "It was nothing. When you blacked out, I just carried you the rest of the way. Easy as cake."

Selena smiles, a smile of pure gratitude. She leans forward slightly and plants a small kiss on my cheek. "Thank you for saving my life, Corran."

"You would have done the same for me," I quickly respond. Not letting any opportunity arise for any other displays of…whatever, I abruptly get up and say, "I'm going out to look for a stream. We used up all of our water just now. Holler if you need anything; I won't go far, OK?"

"OK," Selena answers.

I practically sprint into the cover of the woods, happy for a plausible excuse to exit that awkward setting. As I search for a source of water, I rub my cheek where Selena had kissed it. Now, why would she do that?

Memories of home begin to rush at me, all at once. Memories of my mother and father, memories of Uncle Dane and my cousin Aden, memories of Milla.

Milla.

I feel an enormous guilt pressing down upon me. What would she think, watching this on the screen back in District 12?

I also feel ashamed that I haven't thought of her practically at all since entering the arena, our last kiss before my departure a fleeting memory at this point. Ashamed that I haven't given one flicker of a thought to Uncle Dane or Aden either.

I've forgotten who I'm striving to win for. My motivation. But now I am reminded once more.

~/~/~/~/~/

Before long, I come across a wide freshwater stream, which I use to quench my own thirst. I then fill up my canteen to the brim, and make my way back towards where I left Selena.

But when I arrive at our temporary campsite, I find nothing. My pack is still there, but Selena and her pack is nowhere to be found.

I rush over to where I had laid Selena down, to where my pack is. Definitely no Selena. Where could she have gone? Or…

Or did someone kidnap her?

I take one step farther to scrutinize the ground for any clue and then-

I am suddenly dangling in the air, upside-down, my left ankle attached to some sort of snare that had been cleverly laid in an overhanging tree.

I curse under my breath. How could I have been so stupid?

And then a male tribute is there before me, seemingly materializing out of thin air. It takes me a second to place him, but then it clicks.

Emery. District 11.

But I have to admit, I am not all that favorably disposed towards him at the moment. Because Emery is currently brandishing a fine silver sword at me, while I am completely defenseless.

Never lowering his sword, Emery then regards me with an air of distrust and aggressively says, "Now, Corran of District 12, tell me one good reason why I should allow you to live."

**So I'll do my best to get this story done, but a quick question. Would you prefer a longer, drawn out story, or a sort of quick conclusion? Please respond in a review.**


	12. Plus 1, Minus 1

**Thanks to all who reviewed the last chapter, here is chapter 12!**

Uh oh.

Determined not to let my fear and panic show, I compose myself and answer Emery with a question of my own. "Where's Selena?"

"Your fellow District tribute?"

I nod.

"Right, the pretty one. Well Corran, there was nothing in this little clearing besides your pack here. So I just set my snare by it, and waited to see what I'd catch. Or rather, who I'd catch," Emery explains with a sort of dry humor.

Now Emery might be lying, but my instinct is saying that he is telling the truth. He really does not know where Selena is. Which means that she must have left of her own accord.

But why?

I am given no time to ponder this question as Emery seems to lose his momentary agreeable disposition. "Enough about that. My question still stands. Why should I let you live?"

"You would have to be very stupid to kill me," I tell him. As Emery's eyes narrow, I elaborate, "Think about it. Think of the team we could make. Me, you, and Selena against the three remaining Elites. It would be a fair fight to end all."

Emery considers my proposal for a moment. "Only one problem with your grand idea. This fabled 'Selena' is nowhere in sight. And you have no clue where she's gone. So I think I like my chances better alone. Goodbye, Corran."

"Wait!" I exclaim. For the situation has changed. "I do know where she is."

Emery laughs rather derisively. "You're lying," he sneers. "You're only trying to save your own skin. The girl is probably miles away from here by now. She's probably useless. But enlighten me, where do you think has she gone?"

And then I hear it. "I'm right behind you, jackass."

One flick of Selena's spiked whip disarms Emery, sending his sword spinning away to the ground. A second flick cuts the rope that had kept me dangling in mid-air. A third slices open Emery's right side, causing him to cry out in pain and fall to his knees, incapitated and weaponless. After I pick myself off the ground, I point my two knives at Emery.

"Well," I say. "It looks like the tides have turned."

I turn to Selena. "Where did you go?"

"To look for more food," she replies. "No luck. We'll have to move on to find something to eat."

Picking up on my mood, Selena continues with a smile, "Don't worry Corran, I didn't abandon you. And I won't. Of course, unless you give me a good reason to."

"I'll try my best not to do so," I jest.

Selena jerks her thumb at Emery, who is still crouched on the ground in tremendous pain. "So what do we do with him?"

"Please," Emery interjects. He looks at me first, then Selena with an expression of utmost desperation. "I can help you." He focuses on me, his wild eyes finding my green ones. "It can be like you said. We can be a team of three and fight the Elites. Weren't those your exact words?"

"That was before you tried to kill me," I retort. "Besides, if you got disarmed and overpowered that easily, I'm not even sure if I want you on my side anymore."

"It's not that. I'm just no good with weapons. Hand-to-hand, I can take anyone. Please, you have to believe me!"

"But wasn't your training score a…two?" I counter.

"It was my strategy, to appear weak. Many others did the same thing, didn't they?"

I look to Selena, who is poised with her whip to put a life-ending gash in Emery's head. She shrugs nonchalantly. "Up to you."

Up to me? It's up to me whether a person lives or dies? What sort of monstrous creation exactly _are_ these Hunger Games?

And as I gaze upon Emery's cringing form, I realize that I can't do it. I can't consciously condemn someone to death in cold blood.

_At least you can't now,_ a small voice in my head tells me. _You had no problem before, with the girl from District 3._

_But that was to save Selena, _another voice argues. _That was for the greater good. _

_Was it? Was it really?_

I shake myself back to the here and now. I weigh the two possible options open to me. And I decide.

"No," I say. Stowing my knives away, I hold out my hand to Emery to help him stand. "He can stay with us. I only hope he's the close-quarters combat expert he claims to be."

Emery takes my offered hand and eases himself up gently. "I am. You'll see for yourself soon enough."

I glance at Selena. She seems to be fine with my decision to let Emery join our alliance. Good to know. I wouldn't want her harboring any resentment towards me.

Selena checks the horizon. "It's getting dark. We should find a good place to stay for the night."

"Um…" Emery begins. "Not to sound like a wimp here, but my side really hurts. Those spikes on that whip of yours are really sharp, you know. Can we bandage my wound first?"

Selena snorts. I imagine because Emery is now reduced to asking for our permission to carry out simple tasks. Quite a reversal from five minutes ago.

"Sure," I consent. "But we don't have any first-aid supplies. Do you?"

Emery raises his head to the sky and speaks in a clear voice, "Medical supplies."

A silver parachute comes immediately floating down form the sky to rest at Emery's feet.

Right. He has sponsors. Something I would know nothing about.

Emery rips open the basket enclosed in the parachute to find alcohol swabs, a set of bandages, and gauze pads. After Emery takes care of the mundane business of wiping clean his cut, swabbing it, and stowing the remainder of the fresh medical utilities in his pack, Selena and I gather up the rest of our things as well.

Emery points to his sword, which is still lying on the ground, now caked in dirt. "One of you can have that. As you can see, I'm no good with it."

Selena inclines her head, in my direction. "Knock yourself out."

"Don't mind if I do," I reply.

I walk to where the sword was thrown, and pick it up in my hand, feeling its full weight. It's quite a fine sword, one clearly fashioned by an elite Capitol smith. The hilt balance is one that I am accustomed to, and the blade length is just right.

Automatically, I feel my spirits being to rise. Sure, I am decently skilled with knives. But with a sword, I am absolutely lethal. Now, for perhaps the first time, I feel that I have a real chance of winning these games.

"Where did you get this sword anyway?" I ask of Emery.

"At the Cornucopia," he answers readily. "That was the thing closest to my starting spot, so I just grabbed it and ran. I thought that perhaps I could bluff my way through encounters with other tributes. Obviously, I was mistaken."

"Obviously," Selena half-mocks.

Emery accepts this comment of hers without any visible ill-will. He knows now that any resistance would be futile. Instead, he says, "So, who's the leader here?"

Selena laughs, causing her blond hair to shake in the fading sunlight. "Certainly not you," she says.

"There is no leader," I say. "We're all in this together."

"Good answer," Emery replies. "So, shall we get moving?"

And without further banter or conversation, we begin our search for a suitable resting place.

~/~/~/~/

Before long, we come to a seemingly anonymous cave. This cave is located on the edges of a rather muddy stream, and appears to be able to hold the three of us comfortably. The cave is a bit secluded from the forest and therefore possible sources of food, but all in all, it's not a bad option.

But as we draw nearer to the cave, I begin to hear the sound of muffled voices, and even laughter. Coming from inside the very cave we had planned to make our refuge.

I hold out my arm to keep Selena and Emery from advancing any further. "Do you hear that?"

They both nod. Emery adds, "Who would be so stupid or arrogant to laugh out loud when people could possibly be right outside their cave?"

I exchange a look with Selena. She says grimly, "It can only be the Elites."

"But the last I saw, their base was at the Cornucopia, in the middle of District 13!" I exclaim. "Why would they be all the way out here in the forest?"

"Who cares?" interrupts Emery. "Let's take them right now! We have the element of surprise; we can kill all three of them before they even realize what's going on!"

"Now hold on a minute," I interject. "Let's not foolishly rush into anything rash. Let's be patient. See what develops."

Selena bobs her head in agreement. "I think we should do what Corran says. Charging in there is a sure-fire way to get killed."

So the three of us take up positions in the forest next to each other, keeping the cave entrance in sight, and settle in for a long stakeout. But as it turns out, we are not kept waiting for long.

After about ten minutes of dutiful vigilance, I see Decius and Arrista exiting the cave. They are both equipped with night-vision goggles, and armed to the teeth: Arrista with her bow, and Decius with a sword similar to mine. Just seeing them again, particularly Arrista, fills me with a hot rage that cuts me to my core. I want to make them pay for what they have done. I want revenge.

Selena picks up on my tension and anxiety, for she takes my right hand in her left. "Soon," she whispers.

Arrista turns back briefly to address the remaining Elite, the boy from District 4. "Stay here, Deri. Guard our supplies. Make sure nobody steals them. If they do, and they for some reason do not kill you, be assured that I will personally find you and do the job myself."

Deri of District 4 nods, and jabs the spear he is holding into the ground. "I won't let you down."

With a curt nod of farewell, Decius and Arrista stride off into the woods, to begin their hunt for the remaining tributes. If only they knew…

After five minutes have gone by, I alert my companions. "This is it. Let's take out the guard, steal their supplies, and then get the hell away from here."

"Finally…" Emery whispers.

As we move to stand up, Emery catches my arm. "One second. I have a request. Just disarm him. I want to show you how well I fight with my fists."

"Agreed," says Selena. "He's all yours."

And with that, Selena is the first one to step away from our hiding place. Brandishing her whip, she begins to charge at the guard standing at the mouth of the cave.

Deri the Elite, to his credit, is not taken by surprise. He stabs at Selena with his spear, which Selena deftly dodges. But Deri does not get a second attempt to use his spear.

Because I am already there, sending the spear flying with a swift undercut of my sword.

Deri immediately tries to retrieve his one and only weapon, but his quickly stopped by the third member of our group. Emery.

Emery comes flying into Deri, tackling him to the ground. As soon as they stop rolling, I can clearly see for myself that the fight is all but over. Emery is simply too dominant.

He straddles Deri, raining blows on his ribcage and upper torso. I can hear the distinctive sound of ribs breaking as Emery continues to beat Deri mercilessly. He does not land any punches to the face, however, but this is only common sense: jawbones more likely to break fingers than the other way around.

After about two minutes of a brutal display of force by Emery, he turns to me and says, "Sword please."

I hand him the sword, and he flips it around, in order to use the flat of the blade. He hits the flat upon Deri's head, knocking him into a sound unconscious. Leaving Deri a battered, bloody, mess upon the ground, Emery stands up and hands the sword back to me nonchalantly, as if nothing extraordinary had just happened.

"Told you I wasn't lying," he says with a grin of self-pride.

"But I was," comes another voice.

This one belongs to Selena Mellark.

**I'd just like to say, there have been 335 hits (yes, I did the math) since the last update, and only 7 reviews? Not to mention the 44 members who have subscribed to this story. Please, if you are reading this story, leave a comment or critique, they really do make my day. Thanks!**


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